University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


^^7~     ^4^^^r'A^^«<- .  .^ 


/ 


A 


REED  SHAKEN 


WITH 


THE      V^I  N  D: 


%   fo&o    ^torg. 


BY 

EMILY    FAITHFULL 


The  variable  as  the  shade. 

By  the  tight  quivering  aspen  made." 

Marmion. 


NEW    YORK: 
ADAMS,    VICTOR   &   CO.,    PUBLISHERS, 

98      WILLIAM      STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 
ADAMS,    VICTOR     &    CO., 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Stereotyped  at  the 
WOMEN'S    PRINTING    HOUSE, 
No.  3  Mission  Place,  bet.  Park  and  Worth  Sts.,  one  block  East  of  Centre, 

N  EW    YOR  K. 


1^  S I^  I 'U  <3i  T 1 1)  S « 


TO     MY    FRIEND, 

LAURA     CURTIS      BULLARD, 

WHO   RECEIVED   ME   ON    MY   FIRST   ARRIVAL   IN    NEW   YORK, 

AND     WHO, 

TOGETHER  WITH  HER  FAMILY  AND  MANY 

OF     HER 

Noblest     Pountrvmen     and     Women, 
gave  me  a  pleasant  experience 

OF 
GENUINE      AMERICAN      HOSPITALITY, 

Which   I   shall  ever   Remember  with  Affectionate   Gratitude. 


"Whirling  away 
Like  leaf  in  the  wind. 
Points  of  attachment 
Left  daily  behind. 
Fixed  to  no  principle. 
Fast  to  no  friend. 
Such  our  fidelity, 
Where  is  the  end?" 


Henry  Alfowx 


PREFACE. 


This  story  is  a  simple  analysis  of  one  of  the  most 
dangerous  phases  of  female  character — a  phase,  alas  !  but 
too  common  in  fashionable  city  life,  on  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic. 

I  have  seen  with  my  own  eyes  the  curious  combination 
of  intellectual  power  and  instability  of  purpose  portrayed 
in  Tiny  Harewood ;  I  have  watched  with  an  aching  heart 
the  shifting  weaknesses  and  faint  struggles  for  redemption 
described  in  these  pages ;  I  have  known  women,  equally 
and  honestly  critical  of  their  own  faults,  who,  while  capa- 
ble of  assuming  the  philosophical  and  moral  tone,  occa- 
sionally adopted  by  my  heroine,  and  displaying  a 
cool  acumen  and  penetration  of  ethical  questions,  like 
her,  persistently  "the  wrong  pursued."  Gifted  with  phys- 
ical and  mental  attractions,  although  conscious  of  higher 
and  nobler  aspirations,  some  appeared  unable  to  resist 
the  temptation  of  exercising  their  perilous  love  of  power, 
and  accordingly  drifted  hopelessly  away  into  the  shallows 
and  quicksands  of  life,  extinguishing  God's  light  in  the 
soul  by  the  myriad  conventional  crimes  which  are  under 


vi  Preface. 

the  shelter  of  social,  but  not  within  the  pale  of  moral, 
laws. 

If  the  delineation  of  the  chameleon  nature  of  my  Eng- 
lish heroine,  and  the  gradual  crucifixion  of  the  higher 
purpose  beneath  the  destroying  influence  of  a  frivolous 
butterfly  existence,  enables  one  American  reader  to  de- 
tect in  time 

*'  That  little  rift  within  the  lute 

Which  by  and  by  will  make  the  music  mute, 
And  gently  spreading,  slowly  silence  all — " 

the  publication  of  this  tale  will  not  be  in  vain. 

Emily  Faithfull. 

Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  May  x,  1873. 


A    RE  E  D 

SHAKEN  WITH  THE  WIND. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  We  stand  on  either  side  the  sea, 


Stretch  hands,  blow  kisses,  sigh,  and  lean, 
I  toward  you,  you  toward  me  ; 
But  what  hears  either  save  the  keen 
Gray  sea  between  ?  " 

A.  C.  Swinburne. 

**  Only  I  discern — 
Infinite  passion,  and  the  pain 
Of  finite  hearts  that  yeai'n." 

Robert  Browning. 

On  a  bright  frosty  day  in  December,  not  many 
years  ago,  the  Boulogne  steamer  started  from  the 
pier  at  Folkestone,  containing  among  its  passen- 
gers an  English  family  bound  for  a  six-montjis' 
residence  in  Rome. 

The   leave-takings  were   all   over  ;  friends  who 


12  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

had  accompanied  the  '*  outward  bound  "  to  the 
steamer  had  received  the  last  distinguishable  fare- 
well nod ;  all  who  were  left  behind  were  already 
tired  of  waving  their  hands,  and  had,  one  by  one, 
with  a  single  exception,  departed  from  the  pier. 

Wilfred  Lane  still  lingered.  His  eyes  had  been 
fixed  upon  a  fair  young  face  until  it  could  no 
longer  be  distinguished.  He  had  watched  the 
slight  figure  of  a  girl  who  was  looking  earnestly  at 
the  receding  pier,  as  she  leant  over  the  side  of 
the  boat,  with  her  hand  over  her  eyes,  shading 
her  face  from  the  sun.  And  now  the  steamer 
itself  seemed  like  a  moving  black  mass  on  the 
water. 

At  last  the  young  man  walked  rapidly  off  the 
pier,  through  the  town,  and,  mounting  the  steep 
hill  beyond,  turned  his  face  once  again  towards 
the  sea. 

There  was  the  "  Queen  of  the  Isles,"  already 
looking  much  smaller,  and  ploughing  her  way 
across  the  Channel  with  cruel  rapidity.  Soon  she 
appeared  like  a  thick  black  post,  which  Wilfred 
watched  until  it  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  and  at 
last  he  could  discern  nothing  at  all. 

And  yet  he  could  not  bear  to  leave  the  spot. 
He  felt,  while  he  stayed  there,  away  from  every 
other  human  being,  and  looked  out  upon  the  sea 
in  the  direction  where  he  had  last  seen  the  steamer, 
that  he  was  nearer  to  Tiny  Harewood  than  he 
should  be  when  he  went  back  again  into  the  town. 


A  Reed  Shake^t  with  the  Wind.  13 

Besides  this,  Wilfred  Lane  felt  a  curious  chok- 
ing kind  of  sensation  in  his  throat,  which  he 
thought  would  get  better  if  he  remained  in  the 
open  air  alone. 


CHAPTER   II. 

**  Is  human  love  the  growth  of  human  will  ?  " 

Lord  Byron, 

The  family  on  board  the  tidal  boat  in  which 
Wilfred  Lane's  interest  was  centred  consisted  of 
his  aunt  and  three  cousins  ;  and  the  journey  to 
Rome  was  undertaken  on  account  of  his  attach- 
ment to  the  youngest  daughter — an  attachment 
which  was  warmly  returned  by  the  young  lady 
herself,  but  was  unacceptable  to  the  higher  pow- 
ers. 

For  many  years  Wilfred  Lane  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  frequenting  Lady  Harewood's  house  so 
constantly  that  he  had  almost  grown  to  look  upon 
it  as  his  home.  He  was  accustomed  to  do  for  her 
and  his  cousins  all  those  little  offices  which  ladies 
without  near  male  relations  are  so  glad  to  receive 
from  any  man  whom  they  regard  in  the  light  of  a 
*'  tame  cat,"  or  a  cousin  who  will  never  step  be- 
yond certain  limits,  or  claim  any  other  reward  for 
his  devotion  than  a  kindly  recognition  of  his  ser- 
vices. His  aunt  had  hitherto  received  Wilfred's 
attentions  as  her  rightful  due.  Was  he  not  the 
only  son  of  her  husband's  young  and  foolish  sister 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  15 

who,  in  spite  of  all  her  prudent  counsels,  persisted 
in  refusing  a  wealthy  unloved  suitor  in  order  to 
marry  a  poor  country  clergyman,  who  had  not 
even  the  grace  to  live  more  than  six  months  after 
Wilfred's  birth,  but  left  his  widow  as  sole  legacy  a 
delicate  little  son,  who  must  in  future  share  with 
her  the  income  which  had  barely  sufficed  for  her 
own  dress  previous  to  this  absurd  love-match  ? 
And  had  not  Lady  Harewood  done  her  utmost  to 
supply  a  mother's  place,  ever  since  that  same  weak 
silly  creature  cried  herself  into  an  early  grave  ? 
Did  not  Wilfred  Lane  owe  his  appointment  in  the 
War  Office  to  interest  exerted  by  her  lamented 
husband  ? 

In  fact,  Lady  Harewood  considered  that  she  was 
only  adding  one  more  to  the  many  favors  already 
bestowed  in  allowing  her  nephew  the  free  run  of 
her  house,  permitting  him  to  escort  herself  and  her 
daughters  to  all  the  fetes  and  balls  of  the  season, 
to  call  up  her  carriage  at  the  opera,  and  to  under- 
take those  many  hundred  little  duties  which  force 
even  the  stoutest  champions  of  woman's  rights  to 
acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  man. 

Wilfred  Lane  on  his  part  was  nothing  loth  to  ac- 
cept the  situation,  although  anything  more  opposed 
to  his  own  character  than  that  of  his  aunt's  can 
scarcely  be  conceived.  Lady  Harewood  was  weak 
and  frivolous,  and  the  worldly  maxims  which  she 
occasionally  uttered  for  the 'benefit  of  his  cousins, 
with  the  small  amount  of  earnestness  of  which  her 


1 6  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

nature  was  capable,  were  sometimes  almost  more 
than  he  could  endure  in  silence.  Placed  by  her 
marriage  in  a  position  above  the  rest  of  her  family, 
which  belonged  to  the  trading  class  in  the  West 
of  England,  Lady  Harewood  appeared  to  live  in 
constant  dread  of  betraying  it,  and  in  order  to  dis- 
guise it  she  assumed  what  she  believed  to  be  the 
correct  airs  of  a  lady  of  fashion,  and  a  sorry  sort  of 
figure  she  often  made  in  consequence. 

The  three  cousins  were  the  silver  lining  to  Wil- 
fred's cloud,  though  there  were  moments  when 
Charlotte  showed  tendencies  to  devote  herself  to 
the  beau  monde,  like  her  mother ;  but  they  all  in- 
herited something  of  their  father's  marvellous  in- 
tellect and  genial  disposition,  and  no  house  could 
fail  to  be  agreeable  which  contained  the  bright  and 
fascinating  presence  of  these  girls. 

Men  of  all  sorts  clustered  round  them,  and  they 
made  themselves  agreeable  to  their  own  sex  as 
well  ;  still  there  were  ladies  who  had  hard  words 
for  the  Miss  Harewoods,  and  condemned  them  all 
three  as  '*  sad  flirts."  For,  long  before  Tiny  was 
eighteen,  a  well-known  officer  in  the  Life  Guards 
had  made  her  conspicuous  by  his  public  attentions, 
and  gentle  Belgravian  voices  were  not  slow  to 
whisper  that  by  the  time  Tiny  was  as  old  as  her 
sisters  she  would  have  surpassed  them  both  in  the> 
art  of  coquetry. 

These   insinuations,    of  course,    never    reached 
Wilfred's   ear.       He   was   regarded   by   the  world 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  17 

more  as  a  brother  than  a  cousin,  and  so  indeed  he 
remained,  until  he  learnt  to  distinguish  between 
the  kindly  pleasure  with  which  he  undertook  to 
ride  or  walk  with  Charlotte  and  Madeline,  and  the 
different  feelings  he  experienced  when  he  found 
Tiny's  arm  within  his  own.  Then  he  felt  no 
longer  a  brother  or  mere  cousin,  for  his  pulse 
quickened  and  his  heart  throbbed  with  a  passion 
unknown  to  such  relationships.  These  were 
dangerous  times  for  Wilfred,  but  he  did  not  shun 
them,  or  think  with  any  distinctness  of  that  to 
which  they  must  ultimately  lead. 

As  for  Tiny,  she  was  so  full  of  life  and  spirits  that 
she  seemed  scarcely  to  notice  any  one  save  in  a 
passing  way  ;  everything  and  everybody  appeared 
to  give  her  pleasure  for  the  moment,  no  one  had 
power  to  arrest  her  for  longer.  The  admiration  of 
Captain  Clutterbuck  amused  her  and  gratified  her 
vanity,  but  it  certainly  never  touched  her  heart. 
And  so  her  nineteenth  year  passed  away,  and  dur- 
ing the  following  winter  the  Harewoods  went  for  a 
month  to  some  old  friends  who  lived  near  Windsor. 

It  was  Tiny's  first  visit  to  The  Cedars,  but  she 
soon  became  a  great  favorite  with  both  host  and 
hostess,  and  when  the  time  came  for  her  mother's 
departure,  she  had  decided  (for  Tiny  generally  de- 
cided for  herself)  on  accepting  Mrs.  Wroughton's 
invitation  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  winter  at  Wind- 
sor. Her  motives  were  never  much  scrutinized 
by  her  mother,  who  was  in  this  instance  ready  to 


1 8  A  Reed  Shake7i  with  the  Wind. 

agree  to  the  plan  proposed,  and  content  to  lose 
her  child's  companionship  if  by  doing  so  she  se- 
cured for  Tiny  the  advantages  which  might  accrue 
from  visiting  in  "  the  best  society  in  the  neighbor- 
hood." 

Though  Lady  Harewood  had  not  the  faintest 
notion  how  to  promote  them,  good  matches  for 
her  daughters  were  the  end  and  aim  of  her  exist- 
ence. So  she  said  good-by  to  Tiny  with  much 
hope  and  little  regret,  and  retired  with  Charlotte 
and  Madeline  to  Torquay,  enjoying  the  satisfac- 
tory reflection  that  two  daughters  were  much  more 
conveniently  chaperoned  than  three,  and  that 
Tiny's  absence  might  even  act  beneficially  for  her 
sisters'  interest  as  well  as  her  own. 


CHAPTER   III. 

"And  barren  com  makes  bitter  bread." 

A.  C.  Swinburne. 

**  'Tis  strange  to  think,  if  we  could  fling  aside 
The  mask  and  mantle  that  love  wears  from  pride, 
How  much  would  be,  we  now  so  little  guess, 
Deep  in  each  heart's  undreamed,  unsought  recess  ; 
The  careless  smile,  like  a  gay  banner  borne, 
The  laugh  of  merrim.ent,  the  lip  of  scorn, — 
And,  for  a  cloak,  what  is  there  that  can  be 
So  difficult  to  pierce  as  gayety  ? 
Too  dazzling  to  be  scanned,  the  haughty  brow 
Seems  to  hide  something  it  would  not  avow ; 
These  are  the  bars,  the  curtain  to  the  breast. 
That  shuns  a  scrutiny." 
f  L.  E.  Landon. 

Now  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  the  society  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wroughton  did  not  constitute  Tiny 
Harewood's  attraction  to  Windsor.  She  certainly 
valued  it  as  far  as  it  went,  nor  was  she  by  any 
means  insensible  to  the  pleasures  of  a  large  coun- 
try house,  or  unable  to  appreciate  an  establishment 
containing  among  its  most  important  members  an 
**  exquisite  French  cook." 

Tiny  had  a  wonderful   capacity  for  the  enjoy- 


20  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind, 

ment  of  all  material  things,  but  her  real  induce 
ment   to   remain   at  The  Cedars  consisted  in  the 
presence  of  a  certain  Captain  Foy,  who  was  stay- 
ing with  a  maiden  aunt  in  a  cottage  just  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  park. 

Captain  Philip  Foy  had  found  Mr.  Wroughton's 
society  agreeable  enough  before  the  Harewoods' 
arrival,  and  since  then  had  never  lost  an  opportu- 
nity of  coming  to  the  house.  If  he  had  intended 
to  tear  himself  away  from  his  invalid  aunt  before 
he  made  Tiny's  acquaintance,  he  certainly  never 
contemplated  such  a  sacrifice  afterwards.  He 
certainly  knew  of  places  where  he  could  have 
better  shooting,  and  many  with  more  congenial 
men  companions,  but  it  pleased  him  better  to  re- 
main at  Windsor,  and  to  see  what  impression  he 
could  make  upon  the  warm,  subtle,  and  half-per- 
verse nature  of  Tiny  Harewood. 

Of  course  Captain  Foy  never  meant  *'  anything 
serious."  To  begin  with,  he  considered  himself 
too  poor  to  marry,  and  when  he  did  commit  that 
fatal  act  he  intended  it  to  be  a  stepping-stone  to 
his  interests,  which  a  marriage  with  a  Miss  Hare- 
wood  was  not  likely,  in  his  opinion,  to  afford. 

Unfortunately  poor  Tiny  mistook  Captain  Foy's 
intentions.  His  brilliant  social  and  intellectual 
qualities  so  completely  captivated  her  that  she  soon 
fell  violently  in  love  with  him,  and  believed  he 
was  equally  so  with  her. 

Tiny  Harewood  was  no  ordinary  girl,  and  per- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  21 

versity  was  one  of  her  chief  characteristics. 
'Making  sure  that  she  was  loved,  and  not  feehng 
inclined  to  confess  her  own  sentiments  even  to 
herself,  she  so  teased,  tormented,  and  worried  the 
usually  triumphant  Captain  Foy,  that  his  love- 
making  was  often  earnest  enough,  and  once  or 
twice  he  was  nearly  tempted  to  propose  to  her  in 
spite  of  his  firm  resolution  to  keep  within  the  lim- 
its which  he  had  prescribed  for  himself. 

One  week  followed  another  so  rapidly,  and  the 
time  passed  so  quickly  while  every  day  brought 
with  it  some  mutual  pleasure,  that  Easter  arrived 
without  a  word  from  Tiny  respecting  her  return 
home. 

A  summons,  however,  from  her  mother  came  at 
last,  and  though  Captain  Foy  knew  that  Tiny's 
visit,  like  everything  else  in  this  world,  had  come  to 
an  end,  he  contented  himself  with  being  addition- 
ally tender,  and  even  managed  to  kiss  her  in  their 
parting  interview  in  the  shrubbery. 

Wilfred,  the  useful  cousin  Wilfred,  came  down 
for  Tiny  and  brought  her  back  to  London,  which 
already  gave  symptoms  of  a  gay  and  early  season, 
and  where  she  found  her  mother  and  sisters  pre- 
pared for  another  campaign. 

Tiny  expected  that  before  very  long  Captain 
Foy  would  contrive  to  call  at  Grosvenor  Crescent. 
She  knew  it  would  be  perfectly  easy  for  him  to 
find  a  hundred  excuses  for  doing  so,  but  that 
brave  officer  had  no  wish  to, put  himself  again  in 


22  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

temptation.  He  felt  disposed  to  think  that  while 
he  had  managed  to  amuse  himself  very  pleasantly 
during  the  winter,  and  enjoyed  drawing  out  all 
Tiny's  exquisite  coquetries,  he  had  very  mercifully 
and  wonderfully  been  kept  within  proper  limits,  in 
not  having  positively  made  **  a  fool  of  himself"  by 
a  definite  offer  of  marriage. 

Recognizing  the  nearness  of  the  danger,  how- 
ever, he  determined  to  avoid  Miss  Tiny  Harewood 
in  future,  and  resolved  to  start  another  vehement 
flirtation  (for  which,  by  the  bye,  he  had  a  great 
reputation)  directly  he  got  to  London.  He  was 
all  the  more  inclined  to  do  this  when  he  found  how 
much  he  really  missed  Tiny's  society,  for  he  began 
to  fear  that  he  had  not  come  out  as  scathless  from 
this  little  episode  as  he  at  first  fondly  imagined. 

All  this  time  poor  Tiny  wondered  why  Captain 
Foy  never  called.  Sometimes  she  fancied  he 
would  come  on  a  particular  afternoon,  and  then 
she  would  resolutely  stay  at  home.  Once,  when 
she  did  this,  she  found  her  mother  and  sisters  had 
met  him  at  the  very  afternoon  reception  to  which 
she  refused  to  go,  because  she  made  up  her  mind 
that  the  fastidious  Captain  Foy  was  sure  not  to  go 
to  the  Westbrooks,  wherever  else  he  might  be. 

At  last,  however,  they  met  at  Lady  Howard's 
dance,  but  Captain  Foy  appeared  so  engrossed 
with  Miss  Peel  that  he  only  bowed  when  he  first 
saw  Tiny.  The  partner  she  had  been  dancing 
with  had  just  brought  her  back  to  Lady  Harewood, 


A  Reed  Shaken  ivitJi  the  Wind.  23 

who  told  her,  as  a  pleasant  piece  of  information 
which  would  greatly  interest  her,  that  Captain 
Foy  was  desperately  in  love  with  General  Peel's 
daughter,  and  added,  '*it  is  everywhere  reported 
'that  they  are  engaged." 

Poor  Tiny  !  She  felt  as  if  all  the  brightness  in 
her  life  had  gone  out,  and  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  her  to  know  another  happy  moment. 
Her  pride  rebelled  against  the  feeling  that  Captain 
Foy  had  only  trifled  with  her  affection,  and  her 
one  comfort  was  in  the  thought  that  none  of  her 
home  circle  would  ever  know  the  deep  and  lasting 
impression  which  had  been  made  upon  her  dur- 
ing her  ever  to  be  remembered  visit  to  Windsor. 

Turning  to  Wilfred,  who  came  to  claim  her 
hand  for  the  next  waltz.  Tiny  was  soon  dancing 
with  him,  apparently  the  gayest  and  most  light- 
hearted  girl  in  the  room  ;  and  so  well  had  she  con- 
trolled her  emotion,  that  when  Captain  Foy  came 
up  and  spoke  to  her,  she  never  even  changed 
color,  but  answered  him  with  such  perfect  friendli- 
ness and  ease,  that  he  was  unable  to  flatter  himself 
(which  gave  that  gallant  soldier  a  momentary  pang 
of  disappointment)  that  Tiny  had  come  out  less 
heartwhole  than  he  had  from  a  flirtation  for  which 
he  would  most  certainly  have  been  called  to  ac- 
count, but  for  Mr.  Wroughton's  deafness,  and 
Mrs.  Wroughton's  absence  from  the  rides  and 
walks  during  which  it  had  taken  place — to  say 
nothing  of  the   numerous  casual  meetings  in  the 


24  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

shrubberies  and  park,  of  which  they  had  both 
been  kept  in  complete  ignorance. 

But  whatever  appeared  on  the  surface,  poor 
Tiny's  heart  ached  enough  below,  and  it  was  many 
a  long  day  before  it  ceased  to  pain  her.  At  first 
she  took  refuge  in  the  most  violent  barefaced  flir- 
tations with  the  numerous  suitors  who  were  only 
too  eager  to  secure  her  notice,  and  she  certainly 
seemed  more  than  likely  to  fulfil  the  amiable  pro- 
phecies of  her  lady  friends. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Lady  Harewood  expostu- 
lated, in  her  feeble  fretful  way,  at  these  unseemly 
proceedings,  or  that  Tiny's  sisters  interfered. 
Tiny  was  determined  to  flirt,  and  Tiny  did  flirt, 
and  once  or  twice  she  even  passed  the  boundaries 
of  flirtation  and  inflicted  on  honest  hearts  the  pain 
she  had  herself  experienced. 

But  Tiny's  nature  was  really  too  good  long  to 
remain  satisfied  with  this  kind  of  life.  Gradually 
her  manner  quieted  down,  and  she  seemed  less  in- 
clined to  take  part  in  the  different  gayeties  which 
were  going  on,  but  entered,  with  a  feeling  more 
akin  to  joy  than  anything  she  had  felt  since  the 
Windsor  visit,  into  her  cousin  Wilfred's  intellectual 
pursuits  and  pleasures. 

Wilfred  Lane's  delight  was  unbounded.  Shut 
out  by  his  delicate  health  from  the  hardier  games 
and  amusements  of  boys,  books  had  always  been 
the  world  he  really  lived  in,  and  when  he  saw  with 
daily  increasing   satisfaction  that  Tiny  was   being 


A  Reed  Shake  ft  with  the  Wind.  25 

drawn  towards  him,  he  gladly  provided  anything 
she  cared  to  study,  or  read  aloud  to  her  while  she 
worked  or  drew,  much  to  the  amused  amazement 
of  her  sisters,  who  were,  however,  greatly  relieved 
by  seeing  Tiny's  whims  taking  a  quieter  and  far 
less  conspicuous  turn. 

Wilfred's  greatest  delight  was  in  art,  and  though 
he  never  had  produced  anything  himself,  his  ap- 
preciation and  passionate  love  of  painting  had  al- 
ready gained  him  a  considerable  reputation  as  a 
critic,  not  only  amongst  his  own  immediate  friends, 
but  in  the  best  literary  circle.  It  therefore  excited 
no  surprise  in  Lady  Harewood's  mind  when  she 
saw  Tiny  studying  Ruskin's  "Modern  Painters," 
preparatory  to  frequent  expeditions  with  her 
cousin  to  the  National  Gallery — a  place,  be  it  re- 
marked, strangely  neglected  by  English  people  who 
crowd  to  the  annual  exhibitions  of  the  Royal 
Academy,  and  profess  to  value  good  paintings,  and 
sigh  for  Italy  and  the  foreign  places  which  contain 
them. 

These  were  happy  days  for  Wilfred,  for  he  had 
an  apt  scholar,  and  his  whole  heart  was  in  his 
work. 

3 


CHAPTER  IV. 

**  The  fountains  mingle  with  the  river 
And  the  rivers  with  the  ocean, 
The  winds  of  heaven  mix  forever 
With  a  sweet  emotion  ; 
Nothing  in  the  world  is  single ; 
All  things  by,  a  law  divine 
In  one  another's  being  mingle — 
Why  not  I  with  thine  ?  " 

Percy  Bysshe  Shelley. 

Tiny,  perhaps,  may  not  have  felt  absolutely 
happy,  and  she  certainly  was  not  exaltee,  but  she 
did  feel  she  was  living  in  a  purer,  higher  atmos- 
phere, and  the  worldliness  of  her  mother  and  the 
frivolity  of  her  sisters'  pursuits  began  to  grate 
upon  her  accordingly.  She  was  beginning,  too,  to 
have  a  stronger  feeling  for  her  cousin  than  she  had 
at  first  thought  at  all  possible  ;  and  when  she 
compared  Wilfred's  generous,  unselfish  character 
with  others,  and  felt  the  influence  of  the  high  tone 
of  mind  which  he  brought  to  bear  upon  everything 
with  which  he  came  in  contact,  she  could  not  help 
feeling  his  superiority  to  most  of  the  men  she  ever 
knew — Captain  Foy  included. 

One  afternoon  late   in  the  summer  Wilfred  and 


A  Reed  Shake Ji  with  the  Wind.  2/ 

Tiny  were  sitting  in  a  sheltered  nook  in  the  Bel- 
grave  Square  gardens,  having  borrowed  the  key 
(a  not  unusual  habit)  from  the  Eliots.  Wilfred 
had  been  reading  aloud  some  of  Mrs.  Browning's 
**  Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese,"  and  when  he 
came  to  xliii.  he  paused,  for  he  did  not  think  he 
could  trust  himself  to  read  it  to  Tiny.  It  was  his 
favorite  sonnet,  and  exactly  expressed  his  feeling 
for  his  cousin. 

Tiny,  however,  was  imperative,  especially  when 
she  saw  that  the  page  was  marked,  and  a  date 
written  on  it  which  her  cousin  refused  to  explain. 
At  last  he  began — 


**  How  do  I  love  thee  ?     Let  me  count  the  ways. 
I  love  thee  to  the  depth  and  breadth  and  height 
My  soul  can  reach,  when  feeling  out  of  sight 
For  the  ends  of  Being  and  ideal  grace. 
I  love  thee  to  the  level  of  every  day's 
Most  quiet  need,  by  sun  and  candle  light. 
I  love  thee  freely,  as  men  strive  for  Right. 
I  love  thee  purely,  as  they  turn  from  Praise. 
I  love  thee  with  the  passion  put  to  use 
In  my  old  griefs,  and  with  my  childhood's  faith. 
I  love  thee  with  a  love  I  seemed  to  lose 
With  my  dead  Saints — I  love  thee  with  the  breath, 
Smiles,  tears,  of  all  my  life  ! — and,  if  God  choose, 
I  shall  but  love  thee  better  after  Death." 


As  Wilfred  read  these  lines  in  a  voice  of  sub- 
dued passion,  the  truth  which  had  lately  been 
dawning  upon  Tiny's  mind  came  to  her  in  its  full- 


28  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

est  force.  She  knew  that  she  was  really  loved, 
not  with  the  same  kind  of  love  with  which  Captain 
Foy  had  deceived  her  and  amused  himself,  but 
with  a  love  which  was  Wilfred's  very  life,  and 
which  would  enable  him  to  make  any  sacrificCi  of 
his  own  feelings  rather  than  wound  or  trouble  her. 
She  was  not  excited  by  this  knowledge,  but  she 
was  proud  of  having  won  Wilfred's  affection  ;  and, 
when  he  looked  up,  his  cousin's  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  his  face,  after  that  strange  fashion  of  hers 
which  always  made  it  difficult  for  him  to  control 
himself  He  lost  all  power  to  do  so  now  : — the 
book  fell  from  his  hand,  his  arm  stole  round  her 
waist,  and  their  lips  met  for  the  first  time. 


As  Tiny  walked  back  to  Grosvenor  Crescent 
that  afternoon  she  knew  if  she  had  not  the  full 
measure  of  love  to  return,  she  had  at  least  obtained 
a  heart  which  was  hers  completely. 

But  Tiny  said  nothing  of  this  to  her  cousin  ;  she 
kept  to  herself  the  unhappy  episode  with  Captain 
Foy,  and  allowed  Wilfred  Lane  to  suppose  that  his 
love  had  been  the  first  to  awaken  her  own. 

Now  that  Wilfred  had  been  surprised  into  an 
avowal  to  Tiny,  he  felt  he  must  not  keep  it  a 
secret  from  her  mother.  Gathering  up  all  his 
courage  he  requested  a  few  minutes'  conversation 
with  his  aunt  after  luncheon  on  the  following  Sun- 
day ;  but  all  the  said  courage  seemed  absolutely 


A  Reed  Shakeji  with  tJie  Wind.  29 

oozing  out  at  his  fingers'  ends  as  he  followed  Lady 
Harewood  upstairs,  through  the  drawing-rooms 
into  her  little  boudoir  beyond. 

Wilfred  Lane  knew  that,  with  all  her  apparent 
refinement,  Lady  Harewood  could  sometimes  say 
and  do  very  rude  things — so  can  every  woman 
whose  school  of  manners  has  not  been  an  honest 
and  true  heart,  but  a  smooth,  false  world.  He 
expected  his  intimation  to  meet  with  considerable 
opposition,  but  he  was  utterly  unprepared  for  the 
uncourteous  treatment  he  received.  His  relation- 
ship, as  well  as  his  deep  love  for  Tiny,  gave  him 
an  unusually  strong  motive  for  keeping  a  firm 
hand  over  himself,  and  for  passing  by  personali- 
ties which  any  other  man  would  have  felt  justified 
in  resenting,  even  from  a  lady  who  might,  one 
day,  become  his  mother-in-law. 

Lady  Harewood's  anger  seemed  only  equalled 
by  her  amazement.  The  idea  of  Wilfred's  falling 
in  love  with  one  of  his  cousins  had  never  before 
crossed  her  mind.  She  would  as  soon  have  ex- 
pected a  proposal  from  him  to  herself. 

It  was  some  time  before  she  could  at  all  seize 
the  idea,  and  when  she  had  done  so,  half  an  hour 
did  not  suffice  for  the  expression  of  her  wrath  anc 
disapprobation. 

Accusing  him  of  meanness  and  ingratitude,  she 
declared  that,  had  his  uncle  lived,  he  would  never 
have  dared  to  seek  Tiny's  love  in  such  an  under- 
hand way,  and  wondered  at  his  audacity  in  asking 


30  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

her  permission  to  take  her  daughter  from  ''  the  lap 
of  luxury  "  to  such  a  home  as  he  could  offer.  She 
proceeded  to  comment  upon  Wilfred's  position  and 
future  prospects,  and  made  allusions  to  his  father 
which  he  felt  quite  unbearable,  and  resolved  to 
answer  when  the  torrent  of  words  with  which  she 
assailed  him  showed  symptoms  of  abatement. 

He  was  about  to  do  so,  when  Tiny  made  her 
appearance  ;  her  mother's  loud  and  angry  tones 
reached  her  in  the  drawing-room,  and  excited  her 
to  such  a  degree  that  she  felt  she  could  not  abide 
the  issue  of  the  conversation,  but  must  go  and 
take  a  share  in  it  herself. 

With  a  very  pale  face,  and  a  quiet,  determined 
manner.  Tiny  informed  her  mother  that  she  came 
in  to  put  a  stop  to  any  further  difficulties,  for  she 
had  resolved  on  marrying  Wilfred,  and  Wilfred 
only;  in  token  thereof  she  sat  down  by  him,  and, 
taking  his  hand  in  hers,  seemed  to  defy  her 
mother  to  offer  any  objection  to  such  a  conclusive 
and  womanly  argument. 

Lady  Harewood  was  much  disconcerted  by 
Tiny's  entrance,  but  Wilfred  felt  considerably  re- 
lieved. He  hoped  her  daughter's  presence  would 
have  some  effect  in  inducing  her  to  control  her- 
self. To  tell  the  truth,  he  was  positively  alarmed 
at  this  exhibition  of  temper,  as  his  aunt's  delicate 
health  and  weak  nerves  were  proverbial.  Such  a 
paroxysm  of  excitement  might  even  produce  a  fit, 
he   thought — a  fainting,  or   hysterical  scene,  was 


A  Reed  SJiaken  ivith  the  Wind.  31 

was  the  least  evil  with  which  he  expected  the 
afternoon  to  close. 

It  was  one  thing,  however,  for  Lady  Harewood 
to  vent  her  indignation  upon  an  unprotected  man, 
whose  position  as  her  nephew  made  him  singularly 
defenceless — to  say  nothing  of  the  unusual  amount 
of  forbearance  on  which  she  knew  she  could  count 
— but  with  Tiny  it  was  quite  another  thing. 

Having  relieved  herself  by  an  outburst  upon 
Wilfred,  Lady  Harewood  was  not  going  in  her 
present  exhausted  condition  to  do  battle  with  a 
young  lady  who  was  apt,  under  such  circum- 
stances, to  get  as  excited  as  she  did,  and  to  return 
blow  for  blow.  She  therefore  rose  to  her  full 
height,  and,  with  as  much  dignity  as  she  could 
muster,  rang  the  bell,  and  resumed  her  seat  in 
silence. 

When  the  old  butler  appeared,  he  was  greatly 
surprised  at  receiving  an  immediate  order  for  Lady 
Harewood's  carriage.  A  Sunday  afternoon  drive 
was  not  among  his  lady's  usual  practices,  though 
she  did  not  scruple  occasionally  to  require  her  car- 
riage to  take  her  to  a  quiet  dinner-party.  As 
Watson  shut  the  door.  Lady  Harewood  turned  to 
Wilfred  and  requested  him  not  to  call  before  five 
o'clock  on  the  following  Sunday,  by  which  he 
knew  that  he  was  expected  to  make  himself  scarce 
at  once.  Without  any  hesitation  he  said  good-by 
to  his  aunt.  While  regretting  that  his  wishes  had 
met  with  such  decided  disapprobation,  he  hoped 


32  A  Reed  Shaken  zvith  the  Wind. 

she  would  yet  learn  to  look  more  favorably  on  his 
suit,  and,  with  a  pressure  of  Tiny's  hand,  which 
said  more  to  her  than  a  thousand  words,  he  left 
the  room. 

Before  Lady  Harewood  effected  her  escape  Tiny 
heard  the  hall  door  close  after  Wilfred  Lane. 
Then  she  and  her  mother  had  a  sharp  passage  of 
arms,  during  which  Tiny  gave  her  to  understand 
that  she  loved  Wilfred,  and  was  determined  to 
marry  him  in  spite  of  any  opposition  from  the 
family. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Did'st  thou  but  know  the  inly  touch  of  love. 
Thou  would' st  as  soon  go  kindle  fire  with  snow 
As  seek  to  quench  the  fire  of  love  with  words." 

Shakespeare. 

Lady  Harewood  was  essentially  a  woman. 
She  felt  it  impossible  to  get  through  the  rest  of 
the  day  without  consulting  somebody  ;  but,  ready 
as  she  was  to  seek  advice,  she  was  seldom  in- 
clined to  follow  it. 

In  the  present  instance  her  thoughts  turned  to 
her  husband's  old  friend  Sir  Anthony  Claypole, 
and  she  resolved  at  once  to  ask  his  opinion  on  this 
unpleasant  family  difficulty.  Wilfred's  relation- 
ship had  given  him  such  access  to  Tiny  that  of 
course  by  this  time  they  thoroughly  understood 
each  other,  and  probably  had  done  so  for  weeks 
before  the  words  were  spoken  which  obliged  them 
to  take  her  into  their  confidence. 

Although  she  determined  not  to  countenance 
their  "absurd  and  romantic  attachment,"  Lady 
Harewood  felt  it  by  no  means  easy  to  forbid  her 
husband's  nephew  the  house. 

On  reaching  Hyde  Park  Gardens,  Lady  Hare- 


34  A  Reed  Shaken  ivith  the  Wind. 

wood  found  her  friends  surrounded  by  their  usual 
number  of  Sunday-afternoon  callers.  She  was 
prepared  for  this,  and  had  left  orders  with  the 
servants  not  to  bring  her  carriage  until  half-past 
six  o'clock. 

This  would  give  her  ample  opportunity  for  a 
quiet  talk  with  Sir  Anthony  when  the  other 
visitors  had  dispersed.  At  present  she  must  of 
course  be  content  to  join  in  the  general  conversa- 
tion. 

She  thought  that  tiresome  old  Sir  George  Ful- 
lar  never  would  leave  off  discoursing  upon  the 
epizootic,  the  number  of  horses  he  had  lost,  and 
the  curious  ways  in  which  the  disease  made  its 
appearance  on  his  different  farms  ;  but  his  depart- 
ure was  only  the  signal  for  Mrs.  Redmarsh  to 
commence  a  minute  description  of  the  fits  her 
fourth  baby  had  while  cutting  its  teeth.  Lady 
Ashworth  being  announced,  the  conversation  took 
a  political  turn,  until  Mr.  Hargrave  drew  every 
one's  attention  to  himself  by  some  clever  remarks 
upon  Lady  Duff  Gordon's  ''  Letters  from  Egypt." 
He  concluded  by  calling  Lady  DufT  Gordon  a 
most  affected  person,  because  the  first  sentence  he 
saw  on  opening  her  book  was,  '*  I  put  my  head 
out  of  the  window  this  morning  and  delighted  in 
the  smell  of  the  camels."  Havin""  lived  a  loner 
time  in  the  East,  Mr.  Hargrave  proceeded  to  tell 
stories  about  camels,  which  tended  to  dispel  any 
preconceived  notions  of  the  patience  and  docihty 


A  Reed  Shaken  zuilh  the  Wind.  35 

of  these  animals,  and  certainly  cast  a  serious  re- 
flection upon  Lady  Duff  Gordon's  olfactory 
nerves. 

The  drawing-rooms,  however,  were  cleared  at 
last,  and  then  Lady  Harewood  told  her  friends  her 
urgent  reasons  for  seeking  their  advice. 

It  was  so  late  when  Lady  Harewood  returned 
home  that  there  was  hardly  time  to  dress  for  din- 
ner, which  was  more  formal  and  uninteresting 
than  usual. 

Charlotte  and  Madeline  had  already  guessed 
that  their  mother  was  ruffled  by  something  of 
considerable  importance,  and  Tiny  felt  but  little 
inclined  to  enliven  them  by  her  ordinary  sallies. 
It  was  a  strange  thing  for  Tiny  to  give  way  to  de- 
pression, her  spirits  being  in  general  equal  to  any 
emergency. 

When  the  servants  left  the  room  after  serving 
the  dessert,  Lady  Harewood  informed  her  daugh- 
ters of  the  cause  of  Wilfred's  non-appearance, 
and  the  sisters  ascertained  the  correctness  of  their 
conclusions  respecting  Tiny's  silence  and  red 
eyes. 

Now,  Charlotte  had  views  of  her  own  for  Tiny. 
There  was  a  certain  young  baronet,  with  ;^I0,000 
a  year,  who  was  desperately  in  love  with  her 
sister ;  and  as  Charlotte  had  discovered,  after 
many  exertions  worthy  of  a  better  cause,  that  he 
would  not  transfer  his  affections  to  herself,  she 
was  extremely  anxious  to  promote  his  wishes,  and 


36  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

induce  Tiny  to  become  Lady  Fairfax,  and  mistress 
of  Downshire  Hall,  which  she  promised  herself  to 
enliven  by  her  own  presence  at  seasons  when  the 
county  races  and  hunt  balls  made  Buckingham- 
shire more  than  usually  attractive.  She  did  not 
feel  in  the  least  inclined  to  upset  these  pleasant 
visions  for  the  sake  of  Wilfred's  proposal,  and 
accordingly  came  forward  at  once  on  her  mother's 
side,  and  expressed  herself  bound  to  consider 
Tiny's  real  good  rather  than  her  present  supposed 
happiness  ;  and  though  Madeline  was  less  inclined 
to  take  an  active  part  in  the  opposition  to  her 
sister's  wishes,  especially  when  she  saw  her  little 
pleading  face,  she  did  not  feel  more  disposed  than 
Charlotte  to  accept  her  cousin  for  a  brother-in- 
law. 

Madeline  also  entertained  strong  opinions  about 
the  marriages  of  cousins,  and  believed  that  their 
children  were  always  idiotic  or  blind,  and  she 
honestly  thought  the  good-natured  Sir  Guy  Fair- 
fax, with  his  comfortable  rent-roll,  a  much  more 
suitable  match.  Wilfred  was  already  like  a 
brother,  and  it  certainly  would  be  much  better  to 
strengthen  the  position  of  the  family  by  an 
entirely  new  alliance. 

But  Tiny  had  been  too  long  accustomed  to  have 
her  own  way  to  yield  to  it  on  this  occasion,  so 
she  startled  them  all  with  the  somewhat  bold  an- 
nouncement that  she  "  would  rather  never  see  her 
mother  or  sisters  again  than  be  parted  from  Wil- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Whtd.  37 

fred  for  a  week."  Retiring  from  the  antagonistic 
conclave  she  took  refuge  in  her  own  room,  from 
whence  she  despatched  a  note  to  her  cousin  assur- 
ing him  of  her  affection,  and  saying  that  nothing 
would  induce  her  to  change  her  mind,  for  her 
whole  happiness  was  centred  in  looking  forward 
to  a  life  spent  with  him  as  his  wife. 

When  Tiny  left  the  room,  Lady  Harewood  and 
her  elder  daughters  withdrew  to  the  library,  which 
they  generally  inhabited  on  Sunday  evenings. 
She  then  told  them  of  her  visit  to  the  Claypoles, 
and  how  Sir  Anthony  had  long  ago  suspected 
Wilfred's  attachment  to  Tiny,  but  had  not  noticed 
it  openly,  fearing  that  to  do  so  might  bring  about 
the  very  result  so  deprecated  by  Lady  Harewood. 
Of  course  Sir  Anthony  felt  Wilfred's  prospects 
made  it  natural  for  Tiny's  mother  to  object  to  his 
proposal ;  at  the  same  time  he  observed  that  no 
friend  of  the  family  could  do  otherwise  than  rejoice 
at  the  change  which  had  come  over  Tiny  during 
the  last  few  weeks. 

In  common  with  many  others,  he  had  noticed 
her  previous  flirtations,  and  had  felt  considerable 
anxiety  about  her.  He  was  often  annoyed  by  re- 
marks made  at  his  club  by  men  who  did  not  spare 
Tiny  Harewood,  but  attributed  her  open  and  fool- 
ish transgression  of  the  ordinary  conventionalities 
of  society  to  an  evil  and  wicked  disposition  which 
would  some  day  break  loose  altogether. 

Although    disinclined    to    place   much   faith   in 


3^  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

Tiny's  protestations  of  attachment  to  her  cousin, 
vSir  Anthony  Claypole  feared  that  direct  opposi- 
tion would  be  the  very  way  to  fan  the  flame.  He 
did  not  believe  in  the  result  of  interference  with 
the  young  lady  herself,  but  recommended  Lady 
Harewood  to  work  through  Wilfred,  who  would, 
he  thought,  see  the  delicacy  of  his  aunt's  posi- 
tion, and  the  injury  which  would  be  inflicted  on 
Tiny  if  he  persisted  in  holding  her  to  an  engage- 
ment of  which  her  mother  so  thoroughly  disap- 
proved. 

Before  Lady  Harewood  left  Hyde  Park  Gardens 
she  had  (after  judicious  allusions  to  the  lamented 
Sir  Henry's  opinion  of  his  friend's  judgment,  and 
her  own  unprotected  condition)  induced  Sir  An- 
thony to  promise  that  he  would  see  the  young 
man,  and  place  the  matter  before  him  from  her 
point  of  view. 

Accordingly  the  post  which  brought  Wilfred 
Lane  little  Tiny's  loving  note,  also  conveyed  to 
him  an  invitation  to  dine  at  Hyde  Park  Gardens 
on  the  following  Tuesday ;  and,  failing  that,  he 
was  requested  to  name  an  early  day  for  seeing  Sir 
Anthony  "  on  business  of  importance,  undertaken 
at  Lady  Harewood's  request." 

Wilfred  had  no  particular  engagement  for  that 
evening,  and  impatiently  waited  for  the  time  to 
arrive  when  he  should  hear  his  aunt's  decision. 
He  felt  glad  to  think  she  had  chosen  Sir  Anthony 
Claypole    for    her    mouthpiece,   as   he   knew   this 


A  Reed  Shake^t  with  the  Wind.  39 

would  give  him  a  fair  opportunity  of  stating  his 
own  case,  and  prevent  a  repetition  of  the  scene 
which  had  so  dismayed  him  on  Sunday  after- 
noon. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

•*  Love  took  up  the  glass  of  Time,  and  turned  it  in  his  glowing 

hands ; 
Every  moment,  lightly  shaken,  ran  itself  in  golden  sands. 
Love  took  up  the  harp  of  Life,  and  smote  on  all  the  chords  with 

might ; 
Smote  the  chord  of  Self,  that,  trembling,  pass'd  in  music  out  of 

sight." 

Alfred  Tennyson. 

•*  He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much. 
Or  his  deserts  are  small, 
Who  dares  not  put  it  to  the  touch 
To  win  or  lose  it  all." 

Marquis  of  Montrose. 

As  Wilfred  Lane  walked  home  that  Tuesday 
night  across  the  park,  he  was  not  in  an  enviable 
state  of  mind. 

Sir  Anthony  Claypole  had  conscientiously  ful- 
filled his  promise  to  his  friend,  and  had  brought 
before  her  nephew,  in  very  decided  language, 
every  obstacle  he  could  think  of  to  the  proposed 
marriage.  He  did  not  allow  that  he  was  at  all 
shaken  by  the  young  man's  arguments,  nor  per- ' 
mit  Wilfred    to    see  he  had  more  than   half  won 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  WiJtd.  41 

over  Lady  Harewood's  own  advocate  to  his  view 
of  the  case. 

Wilfred  Lane  was  clear  upon  one  point  only. 
In  spite  of  all  his  shortcomings,  and  the  errors 
into  which,  like  most  young  men  of  his  class,  he 
had  fallen,  he  felt  himself  not  altogether  unworthy 
of  Tiny.  He  could  offer  her  a  pure  strong  love, 
and  believed  that,  notwithstanding  his  position,  a 
marriage  with  him  would  really  be  the  best  thing 
for  her. 

Wilfred  was  thoroughly  in  love,  but  his  love  did 
not  altogether  blind  him  to  his  cousin's  failings. 
He  knew  she  was  terribly  inclined  to  certain  faults 
which  might  lead  her  into  grave  dangers,  and 
that,  with  a  most  impulsive  nature,  she  was  just 
one  of  those  girls  who  will  be  either  very  good  or 
very  bad — they  know  no  medium — and  are  gener- 
ally the  latter,  if  their  better  and  higher  tastes  are 
unsatisfied. 

While  Wilfred  shrank  from  inducing  Tiny  to 
share  with  him  a  life  of  pecuniary  difficulty  and 
self-denial,  he  knew  her  well  enough  to  feel  that 
material  ease  was  not  over  good  for  her,  and  that 
her  character  specially  needed  a  home  with  a 
purer  atmosphere  than  that  of  Grosvenor  Cres- 
cent. 

While  capable  of  feeling  a  distaste  for  the  gen- 
eral tone  of  London  society.  Tiny  was  yet  liable 
to  grow  flippant  in  her  own  ideas  and  feelings, 
unless   encouraged  to   live  in   the  deeper  part  of 


42  A  Reed  Shaken  zvith  the  Wind. 

life  instead  of  on  its  mere  surface.  Nevertheless, 
she  could  scarcely  become  one  of  those  anomalies, 
so  often  met  with  and  yet  so  strange,  which  puzzle 
the  moralist  not  by  badness  (which,  alas  !  would 
be  no  anomaly  at  all),  but  by  their  power  hanging 
on  at  such  a  very  singular  place  in  the  scale  of  vir- 
tues and  vices — a  place  which  entirely  ignores  in- 
dividuality ;  the  result,  probably,  of  living  in  and 
for  society,  and  of  never  raising  the  thoughts  to 
any  high  ideal,  or  letting  them  sink  to  the  real 
passions  of  inner  human  life  ;  but  which,  by  fol- 
lowing a  meek  dead  idea  of  duty,  maintain,  in 
fact,  the  state  which  the  word  ''respectability" 
best  expresses. 

Tiny  Harewood  was  not  one  who  would  remain 
in  a  class  of  *'  respectables,"  which  is  ruled  by  a 
standard  of  right  and  wrong,  made  for  the  mass 
rather  than  the  individual  ;  so  that  Wilfred  often 
feared,  unless  helped  to  strive  after  her  own  high- 
est ideal,  she  would  free  herself  altogether  and  be- 
come utterly  reckless.  He  had  watched  her  very 
closely  of  late,  and  though  he  had  not  the  key  to 
her^wildness  during  the  past  year,  it  had  caused 
him  much  anxiety  and  pain.  When  she  turned 
from  the  frivolity  and  excitement  of  a  fashionable 
life,  which  seemed  to  have  such  a  bad  effect  upon 
her,  he  felt  bound  to  give  her  all  the  help  he 
could  ;  and  when  that  help  had  developed  into 
love,  he  did  not  think  himself  justified  in  allowing 
a  false  spirit  of  honor  to  come  between  them. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  43 

It  was  true  that,  in  comparison  to  Tiny,  who 
inherited  from  her  father  an  income  of  ;^8oo  a 
year,  he  was  poor,  and  Hkely  to  remain  so  ;  and  it 
was  anything  but  pleasant  to  a  man  of  Wilfred 
Lane's  sensitive  nature  to  feel  that  his  wife's  in- 
come must  go  towards  the  mutual  expenses  of 
their  home,  instead  of  being  devoted  to  the  in- 
dulgence of  her  personal  whims  and  fancies. 

Then,  too,  he  knew  of  Sir  Guy  Fairfax's  attach- 
ment to  Tiny,  and  could  not  shut  his  eyes  to  the 
advantages  of  such  a  connection  to  the  family. 
When  he  thought  over  the  many  kindnesses  he 
had  received  from  his  aunt,  he  shrank  from  the 
very  idea  of  acting  in  an  apparently  ungrateful 
manner. 

Essentially  a  proud  man,  Wilfred  Lane  felt 
almost  tempted  to  relinquish  his  own  happiness, 
and  most  probably  would  have  done  so  but  that 
he  felt  assured  that  Tiny  had  given  him  what  she 
could  never  give  to  any  other  man — the  first  love 
of  a  very  passionate  nature.  To  resign  this  from 
a  feeling  of  false  honor,  was  to  do  her  an  injury 
for  which  no  worldly  advantage  or  position  could 
ever  atone,  and  Wilfred  resolved  never  to  do  so. 

Sir  Anthony  Claypole  had  not  been  unreason- 
able in  his  arguments,  nor  weakly  violent  like 
Lady  Harewood,  and  Wilfred  Lane  spent  the 
greater  part  of  that  night  in  battling  with  his  own 
passionate  love  for  his  cousin,  and  in  trying  to  see 
the  matter  from  an  unselfish  point  of  view. 


44  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wi7td. 

As  morning  dawned,  he  became  somewhat 
calmer,  and,  Hghting  a  cigar,  determined  upon  fol- 
lowing the  course  of  action  which  at  last  sug- 
gested itself  to  his  mind. 

Lady  Harewood  had  often  talked  of  going  to 
Rome — he  would  himself  propose  that  she  should 
do  so  this  winter.  Rome  would  be  full  of  interests 
for  Tiny — interests  which  could  not  fail  to  be  good 
for  her.  If  a  marriage  with  him  were  really  essen- 
tial, a  six-months'  absence  in  such  a  place  could 
do  her  no  harm,  and,  in  entirely  different  circum- 
stances, she  could  follow  more  easily  those  pur- 
suits and  pleasures  which  seemed  in  keeping  with 
her  better  nature.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  Tiny's 
love  for  him  was  less  genuine  than  he  believed  it, 
such  a  separation  would  be  a  sure  test,  especially 
as  he  knew  that,  whether  in  Rome  or  London,  the 
Harewoods  would  see  plenty  of  society,  and  would 
certainly  lose  no  opportunity  of  trying  to  wean  his 
cousin's  affections  from  himself 

The  more  Wilfred  Lane  thought  of  the  self- 
sacrifice  such  a  plan  entailed  the  more  he  inclined 
to  it,  and  though  he  knew  Tiny  must  at  first  share 
with  him  the  pain  such  a  separation  involved,  he 
consoled  himself  with  the  reflection  that  her  nat- 
ural vivacity  and  light-heartedness,  and  the  vivid 
pleasure  which  she  took  in  every  passing  occur- 
rence, would  considerably  diminish  any  suffering 
on  her  part,  to  say  nothing  of  the  intense  delight 


A  Reed  Shake Jt  with  the  Wind.  45 

a  visit  to  Rome  would  be  certain  to  afford  a  nature 
like  hers. 

Wilfred  determined  to  see  Sir  Anthony  Clay- 
pole  before  breakfast,  for,  like  all  lovers,  his  busi- 
ness appeared  to  him  important  enough  to  war- 
rant an  unusually  early  intrusion.  After  a  couple 
of  hours'  sleep,  refreshed  by  a  bath  and  a  cup  of 
coffee,  he  soon  crossed  the  Park,  and,  sending  up 
his  card,  requested  Sir  Anthony  to  see  him,  as 
he  had  something  of  importance  to  say  respecting 
their  conversation  on  the  previous  night. 

Sir  Anthony  Claypole  thought  Wilfred's  pro- 
posal very  reasonable — to  say  the  truth,  he  was 
rather  proud  of  the  good  result  of  his  interference, 
and  willingly  undertook  to  see  Lady  Harewood 
during  the  day. 

Wilfred  wished  his  aunt  to  give  him  an  early 
interview,  but  first  to  allow  him  to  see  Tiny  alone. 

'*  If,"  said  he,  '*  my  aunt  will  agree  to  what  is 
reasonable  and  fair,  I  will  be  patient ;  but  I  have 
determined  not  to  sacrifice  Tiny  to  pride  on  my 
part,  or  mere  worldliness  on  hers." 

True  to  his  promise.  Sir  Anthony  Claypole  de- 
livered the  spirit  of  Wilfred  Lane's  message,  but 
wisely  suppressed  the  form  of  it.  He  advised 
Lady  Harewood  to  adopt  the  plan  suggested  by 
her  nephew,  and  agreed  with  her  in  thinking  that 
such  a  separation  would  probably  bring  about  the 
desired  end.  If  it  failed  to  do  so.  Sir  Anthony 
hoped  Lady  Harewood  would  no  longer  oppose 


46  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

the  marriage.  On  this  point,  however,  Tiny's 
mother  was  silent ;  she  was  content  to  accept 
Wilfred's  sacrifice,  and  if  that  did  not  succeed,  she 
would  try  some  plan  of  her  own. 

When  Tiny  heard  the  winter  was  to  be  spent 
in  Rome  without  Wilfred,  she  was  furious. 
"  Nothing  would  induce  her  to  go,"  "  she  would 
sooner  be  a  governess,"  *'go  on  the  stage," 
"sweep  a  crossing" — do  anything,  in  short, 
rather  than  leave  London,  and  it  took  a  great 
many  conversations  (which,  perhaps,  Wilfred  did 
not  regret)  to  persuade  her  to  yield. 

At  last,  however,  it  was  settled,  and  Tiny's 
unwilling  consent  given,  on  condition  that  she 
should  be  free  to  write  to  and  hear  from  Wilfred 
during  her  absence,  and  that  no  opposition  should 
be  made  to  their  marriage  on  her  return. 

To  these  conditions  Sir  Anthony  gave  his  full 
consent ;  but  then  he  was  not  her  mother,  or  even 
her  guardian.  Still  he  was  an  important  ally, 
and  he  undertook  to  do  all  he  could  to  obtain 
Lady  Harewood's  concurrence.  She,  like  a  wise 
general,  hastened  the  departure,  and  managed  to 
effect  it  without  having  given  any  positive  prom- 
ise ;  but  Wilfred  quieted  Tiny  by  his  belief 
that  her  mother  tacitly  accepted  the  conditions 
in  following  out  the  course  suggested  by  himself. 

The  morning  came  for  leaving  London,  and 
Wilfred  Lane  received  a  reluctant  permission  to 
accompany  his  aunt  and  cousins  as  far  as  Folke- 


A  Rccd  SJiaken  with  the  Wind.  47 

stone.  Partly  because  Sir  Anthony  had  good- 
naturedly  interceded  for  him,  but  chiefly  because 
Lady  Harewood's  courier  was  to  join  her  in 
Paris,  and,  as  she  told  Charlotte,  **  it  was  very 
inconvenient  to  have  only  a  maid  to  help  them 
with  their  bags  and  dressing-cases  from  the  rail- 
way to  the  pier." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

**  With  weary  steps  I  loiter  on, 
Tho'  always  under  alter'd  skies 
The  purple  from  the  distance  dies, 
My  prospect  and  horizon  gone. 

Oh  yet  we  trust  that  somehow  good 
WiU  be  the  final  goal  of  ill." 

In  Memoriam. 

Wilfred  Lane  was  undergoing  no  ordinary- 
struggle.  Looking  across  the  English  Channel 
in  the  direction  where  he  last  saw  the  Boulogne 
steamer,  he  realized  in  its  fullest  force  the  sacrifice 
he  had  made  ;  and  when  he  thought  over  the 
possible  results  of  this  separation  almost  regretted 
having  insisted  on  Tiny's  leaving  him,  and  ac- 
cused himself  of  allowing  his  pride — which  re- 
sented his  aunt's  imputation  of"  taking  advantage 
of  his  position  in  the  house  to  get  Tiny  completely 
under  his  personal  influence  " — to  conquer  his 
judgment. 

Now  the  deed  was  really  done  he  almost 
repented  of  it  altogether,  and  there  were  mo- 
ments when  he  contemplated  following  the  Hare- 
woods  by  the  next  boat. 


A  Reed  Shaken  zvitJi  the  Wind.  49 

He  knew  Tiny's  fine  and  ardent  nature  needed 
a  better  direction  than  it  was  likely  to  receive 
from  her  mother  and  sisters  ;  and  when  the 
balance  is  not  struck  between  aspirations  and 
the  power  Avhich  is  able  to  realize  them,  a  half- 
developed  mind,  no  longer  satisfied  with  common 
life,  and  to  which  some  excitement  is  necessary, 
will  seek  its  gratification  in  emotions  and  pleas- 
ures which  are  always  dangerous  and  sometimes 
guilty. 

Tiny  Harewood  still  needed  the  constant  pres- 
ence of  some  wise  loving  counsellor  to  induce  her 
to  accept  the  "  better  part,"  and  Wilfred  could 
scarcely  think  with  calmness  over  the  dangers 
of  repressed  capabilities  and  unsatisfied  desires 
which,  for  want  of  being  helped  towards  the  good 
and  true,  too  often  fix  themselves  on  the  bad  and 
false.  An  incomplete  development  is  a  dangerous 
stage — a  higher  horizon  is  discerned,  but  there 
is  not  sufficient  strength  to  reach  it. 

Wilfred  felt  but  little   comfort  at  this  moment 

in   remembering   that  in    making  his  decision   he 

had    really   tried    to    choose    what    appeared    the 

best  for  Tiny,  and  that  her  mother  considered  he 

had  succeeded  in    doing  so.     After  all  Tiny  was 

bound  to  be  subject  to  her  mother,  and  an  open 

defiance  of  a  parent's  wishes  was  not  what  Wilfred, 

would     lightly    encourage.       A     compromise     at 

present  was  all  that  could  be  thought  of,  and  that 

entailed  this  Roman  visit. 
8 


50  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

Another  thought  also  crossed  his  mind.  If 
Tiny  could  not  stand  the  test  of  a  six-months' 
separation,  was  her  love  really  deep  enough  to 
enable  her  to  share  a  whole  life  with  him,  without 
regretting  her  choice  when  the  charms  of  novelty 
and  satisfied  affection  had  given  place  to  the 
difficulties  which  find  their  way  into  the  happiest 
home?  If  this  were  so,  would  he  not  be  under- 
taking more  responsibility  than  he  ought — more 
indeed  than  he  was  capable  of? 

Walking  slowly  down  the  hill,  Wilfred  Lane 
went  to  the  restaurant  of  the  Pavilion  Hotel, 
where  he  lunched,  before  returning  to  the  station. 
He  had  arranged  to  stop  on  the  line  to  see  an 
old  friend,  now  a  country  parson  with  a  wife 
and  one  or  two  olive  branches.  He  left  Folke- 
stone by  the  tidal  express,  and  when  the  train 
stopped  at  the  Red  Hill  Station,  the  Rev.  Henry 
Frampton  was  waiting  for  him  in  a  very  unor- 
thodox dog-cart,  with  the  pleasing  intelligence 
that  Mrs.  Frampton  had  presented  him  with  a  fine 
little  son  early  that  morning. 

So  Lane  had  just  come  in  time  to  enjoy  a  cosey 
bachelor  dinner  with  Harry  Frampton,  and  it 
must  be  confessed  that  the  young  Rector  rejoiced 
in  the  idea  of  a  long  talk  over  old  school-days 
with  his  class-mate,  accompanied  by  an  unlimited 
supply  of  pipes  and  whiskey,  for  which  he  would 
not  be  called  to  account  by  his  wife. 

And  a  good  talk  they  had  far  into  the  night,  al- 


A  Reed  Shaken  iviiJi  the  Wind.  51 

though  Wilfred  avoided  the  subject  nearest  his 
heart,  and  Frampton's  conversation  was  somewhat 
altered — perhaps  for  the  better,  since  his  college 
days — in  spite  of  the  nursery  anecdotes,  for  exam- 
ple, which  now  formed  a  new  and  not  unimportant 
item,  but  among  these  he  told  a  story  for  which 
Lane  was  willing  to  forgive  the  rest.  The  birth 
of  the  new  brother  had  duly  been  announced  to 
little  Katie  Frampton  by  her  father,  and  not  very 
many  minutes  after  he  left  the  nursery,  the  child  was 
found  on  her  knees  praying  that  **  another  little 
baby  might  be  sent  directly."  It  was  also  strange, 
when  talking  over  the  world  and  its  ways  and  set- 
tling that  it  was  better  if  possible  to  live  your  own 
life  out  of  it,  to  hear  Harry  Frampton  assert  an 
entire  belief  in  his  wife's  opinion  that  **  the  queer- 
ness  of  the  age  was  to  be  attributed  to  the  in- 
troduction  of  the  new  feeding-bottles,  which  en- 
abled babies  six  months  old  to  feed  themselves." 

The  next  morning  Wilfred  returned  to  London 
by  an  early  train.  He  had  little  opportunity, 
however,  to  indulge  his  own  reflections,  thanks  to 
the  pertinacy  of  a  fellow-traveller — a  man  with  a 
shining  countenance  and  a  double  chin — who  per- 
sisted in  making,  with  a  self-satisfied  air,  the  most 
commonplace  observations  upon  the  appropriate- 
ness and  use  of  all  things  in  nature.  When  this 
man  remarked  that  "trees  were  green  because 
green  is  good  for  the  eyes,"  Wilfred  could  no 
longer  refrain   from  quoting  Heine's  answer  on  a 


52  A  Reed  S J  taken  with  the  Wind. 

similar  occasion ;  and,  assenting  to  his  compan- 
ion's proposition,  he  added  that  **  cattle  were 
made  because  beef  soup  strengthened  man,  that 
jackasses  were  created  to  serve  as  comparisons, 
and  that  man  existed  that  he  might  eat  beef  soup 
and  realize  that  he  was  no  jackass  ;  "  a  quotation 
which  freed  him  from  further  interruption,  and 
doubtless  gave  the  possessor  of  appropriate  ideas 
sufficient  food  for  thought  during  the  rest  of  the 
journey. 

By  a  few  minutes  after  ten  o'clock  Wilfred  Lane 
was  at  his  place  in  the  War  Office  ;  everything  be- 
longing to  his  outward  life  was  going  on  in  the 
same  way  ;  people  were  coming  in  and  out,  the 
usual  amount  of  business  was  being  transacted, 
London  was  as  full  as  ever,  but  yet  to  him  life 
seemed  going  on  with  its  heart  out. 

He  got  through  his  work,  and  after  dinner 
strolled  .into  the  Haymarket  Theatre.  Feeling 
disinclined  to  read  and  incapable  of  writing,  he 
thought  while  his  pain  was  fresh  it  was  wiser  to 
distract  his  mind  from  his  own  griefs  by  the  rep- 
resentation of  unreal  ones,  than  to  brood  over  the 
events  of  the  last  two  days  and  their  probable 
effects. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

••WiLHELM  VON   HuMBOLDT   says,  'Old  letters  lose  their  vi- 
tality.' 

**Not  true.     It  is  because  they  retain  their  vitality  that  it  is  so 
dangerous  to  keep  some  letters — so  wicked  to  burn  others." 

Mrs.  Jameson. 

Five  days  after  Wilfred's  return  from  Folke- 
stone he  found  a  foreign  letter  on  his  breakfast- 
table.     He  opened  it  and  read  as  follows  : 

*•  Marseilles,  Wednesday, 

"  I  watched  till  I  saw  only  one  person  left  on 
the  pier.  Was  that  you  ?  It  isn't  the  pain  of 
parting  which  is  the  worst  to  bear,  darling  Wil,  it 
is  finding  out  more  and  more  the  loneliness  of  life 
without  the  one  whom  I  love  best,  and  love  most 
in  the  every-day  commonplace  hours  of  life,  no, 
not  commonplace  when  my  own  W;l  is  near,  to 
sweeten  and  purify  every  moment.  This  is  eating 
the  very  hardest  bread  and  cheese  of  life  after  the 
sweetest  fruits  of  true  love. 

"  I  slept  a  little  in  the  train  to  Paris,  and  woke 
realizing  more  than  I  had  hitherto  done  that  the 
part  of  myself  I  most  cared  to  call  my  own   was 


54  ^  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wmd. 

every  moment  being  left  farther  behind.  After 
our  night's  rest  in  Paris,  mamma  determined  on 
coming  straight  through  to  Marseilles,  and  we  cer- 
tainly managed  the  journey  with  as  little  fatigue  as 
it  is  possible  to  imagine.  I  slept  nearly  all  the 
night,  which  helped  to  make  the  sixteen  hours 
pass  more  quickly  ;  we  got  here  at  half-past  twelve 
in  the  morning,  and,  to  make  up  for  any  rest  we 
might  have  lost,  we  had  fourteen  hours'  real  sleep 
last  night. 

*'  I  enjoyed  looking  out  of  the  windows  as  the 
sun  rose — such  a  blue  sky  and  bright  sun.  The 
country  is  very  pretty  between  Lyons  and  Mar- 
seilles. You  see  the  Alps  in  the  distance  covered 
with  snow,  and  the  railway  runs  for  some  time 
along  the  Rhone,  and  the  pink  light  made  it  all  so 
pretty. 

**  Mamma  retired  early,  and  Charlotte  said  such 
very  aggravating  things  about  you  that  it  ended 
in  our  having  a  regular  quarrel,  after  which  we  all 
went  to  bed.  Mamma  telling  me  through  the 
door  that  I  talked  so  loud  it  made  her  head  ache, 
which  I  thought  very  unfair,  having  said  one  word 
to  Charlotte's  twenty,  and  about  the  same  propor- 
tion in  sound.  After  this  little  excitement  I  slept 
for  thirteen  hours,  and  then  thought  I  would  have 
some  breakfast  in  bed  to  recover  my  equilibrium. 
Madeline  came  to  mc  afterwards  and  read  '  Co- 
rinne '  while  I  dressed,  and  then  we  all  trotted  out 
and  went  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  from  which  we  had  a 


A  Red  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  55 

most  splendid  view  of  the  town  and  hill  behind, 
and  the  sea  and  bay  of  Marseilles  in  front.  It  is 
really  a  very  handsome  town,  and  I  enjoyed  my 
walk  as  much  as  I  could  without  my  own  arm  to 
lean  on. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  back  at  your  work.  I  hope 
you  will  repent  of  your  cruelty  in  sending  your 
unhappy  little  Tiny  away.  If  you  had  been  me, 
and  I  you,  I  am  sure  I  should  never  have  had  the 
heart  to  do  it,  and  I  don't  believe  you  love  me  a 
bit.  But  you  will  find  it  quite  useless.  Being 
away  from  you  only  shows  me  how  much  I  love 
you,  and  I  will  never  give  you  up  unless  you  find 
some  one  whom  you  love  too  well  to  send  away 
to  Rome  for  a  whole  winter  ;  but  you  will  never 
find  any  one  who  will  love  you  half  as  much  as 
your  Tiny. 

''  P.S. — If  I  don't  find  a  long  letter  waiting  for 
me  in  Rome,  I  shall  never  forgive  you.  I  hope 
we  shall  have  a  good  passage,  the  sea  seems  very 
calm,  and  there  is  no  wind  at  present." 

Wilfred  Lane  was  not  the  man  to  make  a  half 
sacrifice.  If  Tiny  could  be  induced  to  regard  him 
simply  as  a  cousin,  he  determined  never  to  hold 
her  to  the  repeated  promises  she  had  made  since 
that  day  in  the  Belgrave  Square  gardens,  when  he 
betrayed  his  love.  In  suggesting  this  six-months' 
absence,  he  felt  that  her  mother  and  sisters  would 
have  every  opportunity  to  influence  her  ultimate 
decision,  and  that  Tiny  herself,  after  the  first  pain 


56  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

of  parting,  would  be  better  able  to  judge  of  the 
strength  of  her  attachment  when  quite  out  of  the 
reach  of  his  personal  influence,  which  was,  he  knew, 
of  a  very  remarkable  kind. 

Wilfred  was  generally  able,  without  any  effort  on 
his  part,  to  establish  a  sympathy  between  himself 
and  people  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  even  if 
they  were  previously  prejudiced  against  him. 

Without  being  handsome  his  face  was  decidedly 
attractive,  with  a  mass  of  rich  brown  hair  brushed 
back  from  a  full,  earnest  brow.  No  one  with  any- 
thing artistic  in  their  composition  could  refrain 
from  watching  the  variety  of  expressions  which 
passed  over  his  face  in  the  course  of  an  hour,  and 
women,  especially,  felt  the  power  of  his  dark  ex- 
pressive eyes,  through  which  a  singularly  deter- 
mined will  made  itself  understood,  in  spite  of  a 
yielding  manner.  Yet  to  some  people  Wilfred's 
chief  fascination  was  in  a  voice,  which  was  very 
remarkable  for  its  varied  intonations.  Of  a  med- 
ium pitch,  soft,  yet  exceedingly  clear,  and  capable 
of  wonderful  modulation,  there  was  an  irresistible 
charm  in  his  speaking  voice,  which  even  men  con- 
sidered "  soothing,"  and  which  gave  him  an  unus- 
ually strong  and  often  entirely  unsought-for  do- 
minion over  the  other  sex. 

Recognizing  the  power  of  this  personal  influence 
to  a  certain  degree,  though  far  from  realizing  its 
full  effects,  Wilfred  thought  that  while  he  could 
never  of  his  own  free  will  have  imposed  such  a  test 


A  Reed  Shake  it  with  the  Wind.  57 

upon  Tiny  Harewood,  he  did  not  feel  it  an  unde- 
sirable one,  when  he  remembered  her  peculiarly 
impulsive,  impressionable  nature. 

Of  course  he  knew  that  Tiny  would  be  unhappy 
at  first,  but  unless  he  was  really  essential  to  her  life 
he  questioned  whether  she  would  long  remain  so, 
in  a  place  which  would  be  full  of  interest.  He 
therefore  determined  on  leaving  her  while  in  Rome 
as  free  as  possible.  If  by  assuming  a  quiet  cous- 
inly tone  he  could  induce  her  to  return  to  their  old 
relationship,  he  resolved  to  control  himself  and  to 
conquer  his  own  deep  love. 

Nothing  short  of  a  whole-hearted  efYbrt  on  his 
part  would  satisfy  his  conscience,  or  justify  the  de- 
cided opposition  he  intended  to  offer  his  aunt, 
should  Tiny  remain  true  to  the  feeling  she  now 
entertained  for  him,  and  Lady  Harewood  still  re- 
fuse her  consent  to  their  marriage. 

Accordingly  the  letter  which  greeted  Tiny  on 
her  arrival  in  Rome  quite  astonished  her.  Instead 
of  any  regrets  over  her  departure,  or  groans  over 
his  own  loneliness,  Wilfred  simply  acknowledged 
her  letter  from  Marseilles.  After  saying  that  he 
had  no  London  news  or  gossip  of  any  description 
to  send,  he  added  :  '*  If  you  care  to  please  me  you 
will  make  yourself  as  happy  as  you  can  in  Rome, 
and  you  ought  not  to  be  miserable  in  such  a  place. 
If  you  will  throw  yourself  into  the  interests  by 
which  you  are  surrounded,  the  time  will  pass  all 
the  quicker,  and  you  will  not  have  to  regret  lost 


3* 


58  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

opportunities — opportunities  which  will  scarcely 
come  again  if  you  marry  me. 

"  Do  not  think  me  cold,  for  it  costs  me  more 
than  I  dare  tell  you  to  urge  what  I  think  due  to 
you  as  well  as  to  your  mother.  Remember,  if  at 
any  time  during  this  absence  you  can  persuade 
yourself  that  your  whole  happiness  is  not  bound 
up  in  our  mutual  love,  if  you  can  possibly  free 
yourself  from  the  feeling  which  at  present  binds 
you  to  me,  I  implore  you  to  do  so. 

''Life,  with  me,  will  be  very  full  of  material 
difficulties,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  think  I  had  put 
out  the  sweet  sunshine  of  your  life.  Do  not  come 
back  to  me  unless  you  feel  certain  that  your  love 
for  me  is  so  strong  that  you  could  not  be  happy 
without  me.  I  shall  not  allude  to  this  again,  but 
remember  that,  if  now, — a  little  later, — or  even 
during  your  last  week  in  Rome,  you  are  able  to 
resume  your  old  cousinly  footing  with  me,  I  will 
never  blame  you  for  it,  but  have  myself  invited 
you  to  do  so. 

"  But  if,  Tiny,  you  feel  y^ur  happiness  com- 
pletely linked  with  mine,  the  devotion  of  my  entire 
life  shall  be  yours,  and  I  shall  never  cease  to  thank 
God  for  a  blessing  so  great,  that  every  outward  trial 
will  be  lost  sight  of  in  the  sense  of  that  deep  joy." 

When  Tiny  received  this  letter  she  almost  felt 
inclined  to  be  angry  with  Wilfred.  It  was  absurd 
to  suppose  she  should  change.  She  loved  her 
cousin,  and  she  meant  to  marry  him,  although  she 


A  Reed  Shaken  iviih  the  Wind.  59 

knew  she  had  once  had  a  deeper  feehng  for 
another.  When  she  first  reahzed  that  Captain 
Foy  had  only  trifled  with  her  affection,  she  never 
intended  to  marry  anybody,  and  began  to  take  an 
interest  in  Wilfred  without  ever  dreaming  of  car- 
ing for  him  in  the  same  passionate  way.  Gradu- 
ally his  love,  from  soothing  her,  became  essential, 
and  her  real  sympathy  with  his  tastes  and  pursuits 
gave  her  a  greater  sense  of  rest  and  quiet  than  she 
had  yet  experienced. 

Even  those  who  had  put  the  worst  construction 
on  Tiny's  flirtations  in  the  first  days  of  her  bitter 
disappointment  were  less  conscious  than  she  was 
herself  of  the  innate  wildness  from  which  they 
sprang — a  wildness  which  was  not  very  far  from 
developing  into  wickedness.  Once  or  twice  she 
became  so  thoroughly  reckless  that  even  she  had 
been  positively  frightened. 

In  her  calmer  moments  she  longed  for  an  influ- 
ence strong  enough  to  arrest  her  ;  her  own  princi- 
ples were  too  unformed,  and  her  impulses  far  too 
strong,  ever  to  be  controlled  by  the  mere  worldly 
maxims  which  were  the  standard  of  her  home,  and 
sufficed  for  less  unmanageable  natures.  In  spite 
of  the  unusually  strong  physical  temperament 
which  her  early  education,  and  the  kind  of  life  she 
had  led,  developed,  Tiny  knew  of  another  side 
which  Wilfred  had  called  into  fuller  existence. 
To  cultivate  this  higher  part  of  her  character  was 
not  only  to   satisfy  her  intense  craving  after  what 


6o  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  VViiid. 

was  really  noble  and  pure,  but  she  believed  it  to 
be  the  only  safeguard  against  temptations  to  which 
she  was  strongly  inclined.  Too  weak  to  trust  her- 
self, or  to  stand  alone,  she  looked  upon  Wilfred's 
love  as  a  special  Providence,  from  which,  at  first, 
she  dared  not  turn,  and  to  which  she  fina'ly  gladly 
yielded  herself,  believing  that  her  feeling  ^r  Cap- 
tain Foy  was  the  first  passionate  love  whic  \  is  so 
seldom  realized  in  this  world,  and  that  hei  affec- 
tion for  Wilfred  was  enough  to  satisfy  her,  ^  spe- 
cially as  he  had  already  elicited  a  much  stronger 
response  than  she  ever  supposed  she  could  give 
any  one  else.  That  she  had  won  the  affections  of 
a  man  whose  character  she  so  intensely  respected, 
gratified  her — the  opposition  she  encountered  from 
her  family  aroused  the  perversity  of  her  disposi- 
tion, and  her  enforced  separation  kindled  her  im- 
agination, until  she  forgot  her  past  feeling  in  the 
longing  for  the  daily  and  hourly  sympathy  and 
love  she  received  from  Wilfred,  the  want  of  which 
now  made  such  a  void  that  her  life  seemed  worth- 
less unless  shared  with  him. 

It  was  true  that  her  love  for  Captain  Foy  had 
made  a  lasting  impression,  but  it  was  also  true  that 
at  the  present  moment  she  was  really  in  love  with 
Wilfred  Lane.  Tiny  Harewood  was  not  one  of 
those  who  love  once  and  forever  ;  she  lo\^ed  with 
her  whole  nature  for  the  time  being,  but  it  was  a 
nature  capable  of  "  change  upon  change" — a  nat- 
ure   often    combined  with  vivid    imagination   and 


A  Rccd  Shaken  ivitJi  the  Wind.  6i 

intellectual  power,  but  rarely  united  with  the 
depth  and  earnestness  possessed  by  Tiny.  Her 
character  was  singularly  intricate,  and  Wilfred, 
fascinated  by  her  childish  grace  and  apparent 
frankness,  believed  in  the  ultimate  development  of 
the  beautiful  qualities  which  existed  in  rare  profu- 
sion among  the  baser  elements  of  this  peculiarly 
gifted  being.  The  finer  the  nature  the  more  flaws 
will  it  show  through  the  clearness  of  it.  The  best 
things  are  not  often  seen  in  their  best  form.  The 
wild  grass  grows  well  and  strongly  one  year  with 
another,  but  the  wheat  is,  by  reason  of  its  greater 
nobleness,  liable  to  the  more  bitter  blight. 

Wilfred  often  remembered  a  saying  of  Mrs, 
Jameson's,  as  he  thought  over  Tiny's  character  : 
'*  Good  principles  derive  life  and  strength  and 
warmth  from  high  and  good  passions  ;  they  do  not 
give  life,  they  only  bind  up  life  into  a  consistent 
whole.  We  are  not  to  take  for  granted  that  pas- 
sions can  only  be  bad,  and  are  to  be  ignored  and 
repressed  altogether — an  old  mischievous,  monkish 
doctrine." 

The  great  thing  was,  not  to  inculcate  principle, 
but  to  train  Tiny's  feeling,  and  he  could  not  prefer 
a  more  perfect  character  in  its  narrower  require- 
ments to  what  appeared  so  much  higher  and 
nobler,  though  mingled  with  many  faults.  He 
believed  that  all  Tiny  really  wanted  was  wdse  guid- 
ance, and  that  the  past  circumstances  of  her  life 
had  exposed  her  to   many  dangers,  especially  to 


62  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

the  pursuit  of  false  pleasure.  He  had  watched 
her  abandon  her  early  instinctive  delight  in  true 
pleasures,  sacrificing  her  natural  and  pure  enjoy- 
ment to  her  pride,  and  he  thought  she  had  already 
discovered  that  these  were  the  bitterest  apples  of 
Sodom  on  which  she  could  feed. 

It  was  very  strange,  but  equally  true,  that  Wil- 
fred Lane,  like  many  other  men  before  hiip,  lived 
day  by  day  by  the  side  of  her  he  loved  best,  and 
never  guessed  the  secret  influence  which  acted  in 
such  a  powerful  way  on  Tiny's  soul,  nor  the  hid- 
den life  carried  on  within  the  folds  of  her  outward 
existence.  Had  he  done  so — had  he  but  known 
the  feelings  with  which  Tiny  still  regarded  Captain 
Foy,  and  had  glided  into  her  present  relation  with 
him,  he  might  have  acted  differently  ;  and,  instead  of 
giving  her  the  choice  of  returning  to  him  or  other- 
wise, he  would  have  understood  her  divided  heart 
better  than  she  did  herself,  and  would  have  shown 
a  resolute  regard  for  their  future  interests,  in  spite 
of  present  suffering.  He  might  not  have  blamed 
her,  for  it  is  the  propensity  of  an  ardent  nature 
to  love  and  trust  notwithstanding  disappointment, 
just  as  a  flower  throws  out  fresh  buds  again  and 
again,  only  to  be  nipped  by  a  killing  frost  ;  but  he 
would  never  have  treasured  up  the  belief  that  he 
had  been  the  one  to  excite  in  Tiny's  heart  the 
deepest  feeling  of  her  life,  and  that  her  nature, 
once  roused  to  a  sense  of  his  love,  and  giving  such  a 
full  and  free  response  to  it,  could  know  no  change. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"Fair  Italy  ! 
**  Thou  art  the  garden  of  the  world,  the  home 
Of  all  Art  yields,  and  Nature  can  decree  ; 
Even  in  thy  desert,  what  is  like  to  thee  ? 
Thy  very  weeds  are  beautiful,  thy  waste 
More  rich  than  other  climes'  fertility  ; 
Thy  wreck  a  glory,  and  thy  ruin  graced 

With  an  immaculate  charm  which  cannot  be  defaced. 
•  •••••• 

Chaos  of  ruins  ! 
The  ocean  hath  his  chart,  the  stars  their  map, 
And  Knowledge  spreads  them  on  his  ample  lap ; 
But  Rome  is  as  the  desert — where  we  steer 
Stumbling  o'er  recollections." 

Lord  Byron. 

Perhaps  few  women  would  have  appreciated 
Wilfred  Lane's  letter  if  addressed  to  themselves. 
They  prefer  to  hear  from  their  lovers  how  impos- 
sible life  is  without  them,  and  that,  in  spite  of 
parents  or  guardians,  they  will  carry  them  off  to 
the  other  end  of  the  world  rather  than  give  up  the 
being  in  whose  existence  their  own  is  merged,  and 
that,  if  tempted  by  any  one  to  prove  unfaithful,  ' 
deeds  of  violence  will  ensue,  for  no  revenge  will 
be  too  great  for  them  to  take  upon  any  one  who 
supplants  them   in  the  heart  of  the  "  only  woman 


64  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

who  has  ever  had  sufficient  power  to  kindle  in 
their  own  the  undying  flame  of  a  deep  and  Hfe- 
long  attachment," — and  so  forth  ! 

Anyhow,  Lady  Harewood  was  probably  the 
only  person  in  this  instance  who  would  have  really 
liked  Wilfred's  letter,  had  she  seen  it,  and  even 
she  would  have  thought  it  much  more  sensible  if 
the  last  sentence  had  been  omitted. 

It  certainly  did  not  please  Tiny  in  her  present 
state  of  mind,  and  she  resolved  to  express  her 
sentiments  very  clearly,  and  did  so  in  the  follow- 
ing manner  : 

"  Rome. 

**You  absurd,  aggravating  Wil,  I  don't  know 
if  I  ought  not  to  be  very  angry  with  you.  I  shall 
not  have  any  consideration  for  your  feelings,  I 
shall  only  consider  my  own,  and  come  back  to  you 
and  claim  my  right  to  torment  you  for  the  rest  of 
your  natural  existence.  I  don't  care  what  objec- 
tions you  like  to  raise  ;  never  was  your  love  so 
necessary  as  it  feels  now,  though,  I  daresay,  it  is 
very  improper  and  unlady-like  of  me  to  tell  you 
so.  I  think  it  is  very  unmanly  of  you  to  be  afraid 
of  mamma  and  compel  me  to  fight  our  battles  or 
allow  you  gracefully  to  retire  from  the  field.  No, 
Mr.  Wilfred  Lane,  I  don't  intend  to  let  you  off  so 
easily.  You  often  correct  me  for  little  wee  faults 
(and  by  the  way  you  have  no  business  to  see  any 
in  me,  at  all),  and  you  allow  yourself  the  most  un- 
limited amount  of  the  worst  sin  a  man,  woman,  or 


A  Reed  Shaken  zvith  the  Wind.  65 

child  can  indulge  in — PRIDE.  Because  I  am 
obliged  to  confess  to  you  that  I  am  very  miserable 
without  you,  and  don't  continually  brandish  over 
you  the  fear  of  losing  me,  you  take  up  a  tone 
which  I  think  most  unbecoming.  However,  I 
will  soon  do  something  to  bring  you  on  your  knees 
again — the  right  position  for  both  of  us.  I  am 
glad  you  say  you  shall  '  not  allude  to  this  again  ;  ' 
I  make  you  a  profound  curtsey,  sir,  and  beg  you 
to  waste  no  more  time  in  writing  ridiculous  letters. 
I  suppose  you  wrote  the  last  because  you  had 
nothing  else  to  do,  or  wanted  to  cultivate  a  new 
style  !  Anyhow,  you  only  wrote  it  because  you 
knew  your  self-denial  would  be  received  with  ap- 
propriate indignation  and  scorn.  But,  as  you  are 
always  quoting  Sir  Peter  Teazle's  naughty  ex- 
pression about  sentiment,  I  shall  leave  this  subject 
and  tell  you  of  our  journey. 

"  We  had  an  awful  passage.  It  was  quite  calm 
when  we  started  ;  but  the  wind  rose  very  soon, 
and  we  tossed  about  fearfully,  and  tow^ards  morn- 
ing had  to  put  back  into  the  harbor  of  Toulon, 
where  we  remained  a  day  and  a  night.  Most  of 
the  passengers  were  very  ill.  I  stayed  on  deck, 
watching  such  a  beautiful  moonlight  on  the  water, 
and  the  mountains,  which  are  all  round  the  harbor, 
reminding  one  of  Gibraltar— quite  a  land-locked' 
harbor,  and  full  of  French  men-of-war.  One  of 
them  sent  up  rockets  and  burnt  blue  lights,  appar 
ently  for  my  edification. 


66  A  Reed  SJiakeii  with  the  Wind. 

*'  How  you  would  have  enjoyed  seeing  the  rlp- 
pVing  water  Ht  up  by  the  moon  and  the  Hghts  from 
the  ships.  Such  a  pretty  color  it  is,  a  tender  deep 
blue,  always  shifting  into  golden  ripples,  and  then 
the  dark  hills  with  a  bright  line  of  lights  and  their 
reflections — some  creeping  up  the  sides  and  strug- 
gling quite  high  up  the  hills,  and,  beyond  all  this, 
the  gray  mountains  rising  against  the  clear  bright 
sky. 

**  I  looked,  too,  at  the  pretty  setting  of  the  stars 
— you  gave  me  that  idea — but  then  what  a  differ- 
ent sky  they  are  set  in  here  ! 

"  The  worst  part  of  our  passage  was  between 
Toulon  and  Villafranca.  We  spent  a  miserable 
day — trying  to  run  along  the  coast,  then  attempt- 
ing the  open  sea,  tossing  and  dancing  about, 
making  no  v/ay  at  all.  But  at  last  it  came  to  an 
end,  and  here  we  are  in  Rome. 

"  This  is  siu'h  a  place  !  The  climate  is  deli- 
cious, and  everything  one  sees  surpasses  one's 
expectations.  Not  exactly  that  anything  we  have 
seen  is  beautiful,  but  everything  is  so  interesting 
and  picturesque,  and  has  a  character  of  its  own, 
and  a  completeness  of  association  which  makes  one 
enjoy  it  much  more  than  simply  beautiful  build- 
ings. Not  that  I  feel  inclined  to  enjoy  anything  ; 
when  I  think  of  you  in  that  grimy,  foggy,  old 
London,  I  feel  as  if  I  were  cut  in  two,  and  that 
the  best  half  of  me  were  there,  not  here. 

**  The  charm  of  this  place   I    cannot  describe, 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  WiJtd.  6^ 

but  you  of  all  people  would  appreciate  it.  We 
have  a  lovely  garden  to  this  hotel,  which  we  can 
get  to  by  a  terrace  leading  from  a  passage  outside 
our  rooms.  It  is  full  of  fountains  and  flowers, 
lovely  shrubs,  and  terraces,  where  you  could 
smoke  and  enjoy  yourself  in  the  sun  by  day,  and 
in  the  moon  by  night,  and  I  could  come  down  to 
my  own  strong  Wil,  when  I  felt  I  needed  to  be 
calmed  and  soothed. 

"  I  don't  lead  my  own  life  a  bit  with  the  others; 
of  course  it  is  no  fault  of  theirs,  but  one's  own 
weakness.  So  it  is.  I  am  pulled  along  with  the 
stream,  theoretically  wishing  to  go  one  way,  but 
practically  having  all  one's  time,  mind,  and  nerves 
used  up  in  the  family  life. 

"  Charlotte  is  just  singing  Schubert's  'Parting 
of  Hector  from  his  Wife.'  I  daresay  you  don't 
know  it,  but  you  ought  to.  It  is,  perhaps,  a 
slightly  classical  parting,  but  it  is  a  good  down- 
right sort  of  one,  strong,  hopeful,  and  wildly  in- 
toxicated with  love. 

''  Wilfred  !  if  you  were  ever  sure  of  anything  in 
this  world,  you  may  be  sure  of  the  good  effect  of 
your  love  upon  me.  When  I  think  of  what  you 
have  saved  me  from,  I  can't  help  thanking  God 
for  it.  You  have  done  what  no  saint,  or  angel, 
or  anything  less  human,  could  have  effected,  and 
given  reality  and  form  to  what  were  only  vague, 
occasional  sentiments — dreamy,  unreal  sort  of  im- 
pulses. 


68  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wijid. 

"I  go  on  with  my  readings  of  the  two  Brown- 
ings and  Ruskin.  I  think  Ruskin  is  very  like  the 
Bible — the  Bible  made  comprehensible,  just  what 
is  divine  taken  out,  but  much  of  the  beauty  and 
purity  left  in. 

"  Yesterday  I  saw  a  perfect  picture — Raphael's 
Fiddler.  Such  a  face,  Wil,  rather  the  type  of  his 
own,  but  not  so  fair,  and  instead  of  the  dreamy, 
loving  expression  of  the  Louvre  portrait,  a  perfect 
load  of  Art — sensitive,  passionate  Art — the  whole 
countenance  sad,  not  wholly  beautiful — as  no 
artist's  face  ought  ever  to  be  made.  To  do  and  to 
be  are  quite  incompatible,  don't  you  think  so  ?  I 
think,  somehow,  artists  ought  not  to  be  beautiful, 
or  their  personal  influence  detracts  from  the  in- 
fluence of  their  Art,  for  after  all  there  is  nothing 
like  people,  and  it  is  not  fair  to  oppose  them  to 
any  Art  whatever.  But  Raphael's  Fiddler  is  so 
steeped  in  his  Art,  that  one  hardly  thinks  whether 
it  is  a  man,  a  boy,  or  a  woman.  He  has  no 
individuality  but  his  Art.  I  have  been  thinking 
of  him  ever  since,  and  can't  get  him  out  of  my 
head,  with  his  dark  face,  and  matted  hair,  cut 
straight  along  the  forehead,  surmounted  by  a  little 
black  cap.  The  fur  tippet  he  wears  is  something 
quite  beyond  admiration — a  most  delightful  mixt- 
ure of  yellow,  brown,  and  gray — over  a  sad  green 
dress,  and  the  fiddle  itself  a  red  brown.  Some 
dark  blue  flowers  with  rich  green  leaves  are  in  his 
hand,  and  all  besides  is  well  kept  in  the  shade.     I 


A  Reed  Shaken  iviik  iJie  Wind.  69 

have  gone  quite  wild  over  this  picture,  and  can 
think  of  nothing  else. 

'*  I  send  you  a  few  of  what  we  agreed  together 
were  favorite  flowers  of  ours — do  you  remember  ? 
I  got  them  in  the  Ludovici  Gardens.  Such  a  view 
we  had  from  the  top  of  the  villa  ! 

**  A  stormy  day,  raining  a  little — and  all  the 
ilexes  and  cypresses  ink-black  in  the  foreground, 
and,  beyond,  a  burning  sheet  of  gold  on  the  Cam- 
pagna,  and  the  piles  of  mountains  all  mixed  up  in 
the  clouds  ;  some  bright  peaks  of  snow  with  bronze 
light,  the  stormy,  violent  light  that  gives  snow 
such  a  wonderful  color,  reminding  one  at  the  same 
time  of  metal  and  of  the  softest,  mellowest  swan's 
plumage.  Then,  the  next  mountain  the  fullest 
lapis  blue,  and  far  off  in  the  sunshine  Soracte  piled 
up  all  alone,  quite  light  cobalt  in  a  sky  of  the  fair- 
est blue  (like  an  old  Francia's  sky),  as  if  it  knew 
nothing  whatever  about  what  was  going  on  in  the 
dismal  parts  of  the  heavens.  The  only  thing  that 
was  not  ink-black  in  the  foreground  was  the  Tiber, 
and  Heaven  only  knows  where  it  got  its  flaming 
brightness  as  it  twisted  under  the  black  clouds  on 

o 

its  winding  way.  Yes,  Rome  is  a  wonderful  place 
when  you  see  all  that  (and  a  thousand  things  be- 
sides) up  at  the  top  of  a  tower,  and  at  the  bottom 
such  statues  as  the  Mars  in  repose,  the  Juno's 
head,  and  several  others  which  are  beyond  de- 
scription beautiful. 

**  One  of  the  best  pictures  I  have  seen  was  at  a 


70  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

concert  the  other  night.  A  quartett  of  Mozart, 
played  by  Madlle.  JuHe,  two  violins,  and  a  violon- 
cello. Madlle.  Julie's  face — as  I  saw  its  profile — 
all  full  of  earnest  quiet  music,  with  the  load  in  the 
eyebrows  which  in  musicians  seems  to  me  to  ex- 
press all  the  pain  of  Art — the  spirit  much  too 
strong  for  utterance,  a  bewilderment  of  the  brain 
in  the  higher  regions — a  quiet,  sensitive  mouth,  a 
yellow  skin,  the  same  all  over  (no  artist  ever  had 
a  good  complexion,  I'm  sure)  and  black  unnotice- 
able  hair.  If  you  have  ever  seen  Rubenstein  you 
will  understand  what  I  mean  by  the  load  in  the 
eyebrows.  Then  came  the  violins  and  violon- 
cellos, and  interesting  clever  musician-faces  play- 
ing them,  half  hid  by  the  pretty  curves  of  their 
instruments  and  the  stands  for  their  music,  all 
their  black  coats,  and  Madlle.  Julie's  simple  black 
dress  without  a  white  collar  even,  all  more  than 
half  hid,  but  coming  so  well  and  seriously  against 
the  wall  behind.  The  wall  of  the  theatre  is 
painted  with  a  full,  soft  drapery,  with  little  gold 
touchings  here  and  there — all  much  hurt  by  time, 
and  therefore  the  better  for  the  picture.  It  was 
altogether  perfect,  as  the  colors  of  the  instruments 
— yellow,  red,  and  brown  mingled — and  the  sallow 
faces  of  the  players  looked  perfectly  delightful 
against  the  subdued  green  background.  But  of 
course  the  music  in  the  faces  (particularly  in 
Madlle.  Julie's)  made  the  picture.  It  reminded 
me  so  of  George  Sand's  '  Consuelo,'  which  is  full 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  71 

of  artistic  scenes  ;  Haydn  and  Co.'s  little  musical 
meetings  in  the  old  musical  atmosphere  of  the  old 
times — all  old — nothing  of  the  nineteenth  century 
about  them. 

**  But  now  I  have  well  dosed  you  with  my  pros- 
ings,  I  shall  only  add  that  what  Rome  would  be  to 
me  under  favorable  circumstances  I  cannot  im- 
agine. You  see  if  I  am  only  to  write  occasionally 
I  mean  to  send  you  letters  you  cannot  read  all  in  a 
minute,  but  which  will  compel  you  to  think  for  at 
least  one  half  hour  after  you  receive  them  of  the 
unfortunate 

**  little  exile, 

**TlNY  Harewood." 


CHAPTER   X. 

**  And  this  woman  says,  *  My  days  were  sunless,  and  my  nights  were 

moonless, 
Parched  the  pleasant  April  herbage,  and  the  lark's  heart  outbreak 

tuneless, 
If  you  loved  me  not  ! '     And  I  who  (ah,  for  words  of  flame  !)  adore 

her! 
Who  am  mad  to  lay  my  spirit  prostrate  palpably  before  her — " 

Robert  Browning. 

Wilfred  was  delighted  with  this  letter  ;  not 
only  for  its  freshness  and  keenness  of  appreciation, 
but  for  the  loving  steadfastness  it  expressed  for 
him.  He  declared  to  himself  that  Tiny  was  like 
a  pemmican,  or  jelly,  or  anything  which  contains 
a  lot  of  strength,  but  is  little  in  size  ;  and  it  seemed 
to  him  that  the  good  qualities  of  six  or  eight  or- 
dinary good  women  were  boiled  down  to  make  her 
what  she  was,  and  that  was  why  she  was  not  bigger  ! 

Had  the  letter  been  answered  that  day,  Wilfred 
felt  he  must  have  given  vent  to  all  the  loving  feel- 
ings of  his  heart,  and  therefore  he  put  it  in  his 
pocket  and  resolved  on  allowing  a  week  to  pass 
before  he  trusted  himself  to  write  to  "  his  little 
sunshine,"  as  he  often  called  Tiny.  But  he  only 
found  each  day  made  him   more  hungry,  and  it 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  Ji 

sometimes  seemed  impossible  to  repress  his  pas- 
sionate love.  Nothing  but  the  conviction  that 
this  complete  sacrifice  best  proved  his  true  affec- 
tion, enabled  him  to  resist  the  desire  of  telling  her 
how  entirely  his  life  was  bound  up  in  hers.  Some- 
times the  craving  was  so  strong  that  he  was  forced 
to  yield,  but  the  letters  written  in  these  moments 
were  never  posted. 

This  was  the  answer  sent  to  Tiny. 

''My  Dear  Little  Sprite: 

'*  If  I  am  afraid  of  your  mother,  I  am  not  going 
to  be  terrified  by  you,  and  shall  therefore  continue 
to  give  you  cause  to  scold  me  to  your  heart's  con- 
tent— for  the  present — waiting,  however,  a  fitting 
opportunity  to  punish  you  for  your  evil  deeds.  If 
that  day  ever  comes  you  will  cry  aloud  and  in  vain 
for  mercy. 

"  Instead  of  all  these  reproaches  your  letters 
ought  to  be  written  in  a  strain  of  continual  thanks- 
giving for  the  pleasures  I  have  been  benevolent 
enough  to  procure  you  this  winter. 

**  Think  of  the  lovely  climate  with  which  you 
are  enraptured,  and  then  fancy  my  mistaking  a 
lamp-post  for  a  man  on  my  way  to  the  office  this 
morning — a  wrong  conclusion,  which  brought 
speedy  retribution  in  the  shape  of  a  sudden  collis- 
ion of  a  remarkably  severe  nature. 

"  See  what  a  wise  old  cousin  you  have  ;  wise  as 

well  as  benevolent ! 
4 


74  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  IVinei. 

''  I  knew  Rome  would  enchant  and  fill  you  with 
happy,  beautiful  thoughts  ;  but  I  hardly  ever  ex- 
pected you  would  enable  me  to  share  them  so 
completely  by  sending  such  gloriously  vivid  de- 
scriptions of  all  you  see  and  hear.  I  feel  as  if  I 
had  seen  Raphael's  Fiddler  now,  but  I  don't  quite 
see  that  *  to  be  and  to  do  are  incompatible,'  even  in 
relation  to  outward  beauty  and  artistic  work,  and 
I  am  sure,  my  dear  little  coz,  it  isn't  so  with  regard 
to  other  things,  inasmuch  as  the  being  must  come 
before  the  doing.     Eh  ? 

"  But  you  must  be  content  with  shabby  an- 
swers ;  for  /  have  nothing  beautiful  to  write  about. 
I  can  only  tell  you  of  the  books  I  am  reading,  one 
of  which  you  would  enjoy  immensely.  A  certain 
Dr.  Carl  Vogt,  who  has  written  on  '  Man  and  his 
Place  in  Creation,'  believes  that,  as  animals  have 
brains,  they  have  intellects  ;  and  his  book  abounds 
in  stories  of  religious  dogs,  just  cats,  bears  and 
apes,  with  notions  of  dignity  and  decorum.  In 
the  way  of  novels,  I  have  been  skimming  *  Emily 
Chester,'  which  works  out  the  theory  that  God 
gives  to  every  creature  the  exact  discipline  which 
best  tends  to  promote  its  final  development. 
With  those  to  whom  happiness  is  the  one  possible 
means  of  expansion — their  characters  requiring 
moral  sunshine,  just  as  some  flowers  need  the 
physical — it  almost  seems  as  if  *  an  angel  had 
charge  concerning  them,  lest  they  dashed  their 
foot  against  a  stone ;  '  while  to  others,  pain  and 


A  Reed  Shaken  zvith  the  Wind.  75 

suffering  seem  to  be  their  positive  nutriment — fire 
their  native  element. 

**  How  glad  I  am  you  are  going  on  with  your 
readings  from  Ruskin  and  the  Brownings.  To  me 
there  is  an  intense  life  in  '  Aurora  Leigh  ;  '  it  is 
certainly  a  great  poem,  notwithstanding  a  want  of 
finish  which  suggests  masculine  rudeness  of  power, 
rather  than  feminine  delicacy  of  touch. 

"  I  saw  a  very  good  thing  in  a  criticism  on 
Robert  Browning  the  other  day.  The  writer,  in 
speaking  of  his  obscurity,  says,  by  way  of  exam- 
ple, that  one  of  his  poems  contains  only  two  in- 
telligible lines,  and  that  these  two  are  not  true. 
The  first  line  is 

'  Who  will,  may  hear  Sordello's  story  told.' 

with  which  the  poem  commences,  and  the  other  is 
the  one  with  which  it  concludes, 

'  Who  would,  has  heard  Sordello's  story  told,' 

I  believe  this  is  the  poem  of  which  Browning's 
father  exclaimed,  *  I  spent  the  whole  morning  over 
it,  but  I  could  only  make  out  that  there  was  a 
woman  in  it.' 

**  And  now  I  must  leave  off  writing,  but  I  shall 
not  leave  off  longing  for  your  next  letter  until  I 
have  received  it.      Give  my  love  to  Charlotte  and  > 
Madeline,    and    an   appropriate    message  to  your 
mother. 

''Ever  yours,  "W.  L." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

"Majesty, 
Power,  glory,  strength,  and  beauty,  all  are  aisled 
In  this  eternal  ark  of  worship  undefiled." 

Lord  Byron. 

Wilfred  had  not  very  long  to  wait,  although  it 
appeared  long  enough  to  him,  before  his  eyes 
were  gladdened  by  the  sight  which  had  now  be- 
come so  precious  to  him,  of  a  yellow  envelope, 
bearing  the  Roman  postmark. 

Breaking  the  seal,  he  read : 

"You  cruel  Wilfred,  to  mount  such  a  pedestal 
when  I  have  become  dependent  upon  your  kind 
words.  I  feel  every  thought  of  the  future  so 
bound  up  in  your  strengthening  love  that  I  long 
for  its  expression  even  on  a  miserable  sheet  of 
paper.  And  you  must  give  it,  for  I  am  so  lonely, 
and  should  feel  quite  another  person  if  I  could 
only  have  a  hopeful  loving  letter  from  you.  Oh, 
Wil,  it  is  such  an  age  since  that  horrid  steamer 
took  me  away  from  the  figure  on  the  Folkestone 
pier.  One's  cheerfulness  is  beginning  to  be  a 
melancholy  failure,  such  a  skull-like  grin  !     I  had 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wi7iel.  77 

a  great  fright  too,  yesterday.  I  looked  down  at 
my  arm  and  saw  I  had  lost  your  dear  locket  off 
my  bracelet.  Fancy  my  concern  !  I  hunted 
everywhere,  and  so  did  every  one  else,  till  at  last 
I  went  to  bed  in  despair,  hardly  able  to  sleep  for 
the  thought  of  it.  In  the  morning  Smith  brought 
it  in,  saying  she  had  found  it  in  the  passage  the 
night  before. 

*'The  other  day  two  of  the  Leighs  called  and 
asked  us  to  go  with  them  to  see  the  fox  hounds 
meet,  so  I  went  with  Madeline.  It  was  a  splendid 
morning,  and  we  had  such  a  pretty  drive,  the 
views  of  the  mountains  with  their  tops  all  covered 
with  snow,  and  quite  pink  in  the  morning  light, 
were  lovely.  Lady  Emily  Cavendish  was  first 
and  foremost,  with  red  hair,  red  tie,  gold  spangled 
net,  bright  blue  habit,  and  on  a  gray  horse.  She 
looks  well  on  horseback,  however,  rides  capitally, 
and  won  the  fox's  brush  on  Monday.  One  of  the 
best  riders  and  most  constant  lady  hunters  in 
Rome  is  the  bright  vivacious  Harriet  Hosmer, 
the  famous  American  sculptress. 

*'  And  now  I  must  tell  you  about  our  Christmas 
Eve. 

"  We  went  with  the  Somervilles  and  Dunmores, 
in  three  carriages,  through  the  deserted  streets  ; 
there  are  only  patrols  in  two  streets  in  Rome,  the. 
rest,  they  say,  are  infested  by  brigands,  who  at- 
tack you  at  every  possible  turn.  We  crossed  the 
St.  Angelo  bridge,  with  Its  great  renaissance  stat- 


78  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

ues  by  Bernini,  black  and  rugged  outlines  against 
the  clear,  star-lit,  bright  sky,  up  to  the  marvellous 
piazza  before  St.  Peter's.  The  beautiful  colonnade 
which  encircles  with  its  arms  the  immense  space 
of  the  piazza,  the  gentle  noise  made  by  the  falling 
fountains,  a  clear  sound,  only  to  be  heard  when 
everything  else  is  still — seemed  so  mysterious  in 
the  strange  starlight ! 

**When  we  got  out  of  the  carriage,  we  had  to 
mount  the  Bernini  staircase,  with  hundreds  of 
steps,  flanked  by  immense  pillars.  You  cannot 
imagine  what  a  wonderful,  weird-looking  place  it 
seemed  in  that  light,  with  groups  of  tall  men — the 
Swiss  guard — in  dresses  which  rejoiced  my  heart, 
invented  and  designed  by  Michael  Angelo.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  court  were  the  Papal  Guards, 
with  flaming  cloaks  and  splendid  helmets,  also  men 
mounted  on  very  fine  horses. 

"  At  the  top  of  the  staircase  we  entered  a  room 
with  frescos  on  the  walls  and  ceilings. 

''  You  put  aside  the  huge  curtain  hung  over  the 
entrance  door,  to  get  into  the  Sistine  Chapel,  which 
is  simple  but  gorgeous,  if  you  can  imagine  the 
combination. 

**  The  wonderful  roof,  by  Michael  Angelo,  and 
his  fresco  of  the  Last  Judgment,  which  covers  the 
end  of  the  chapel  (except  where  the  barbarians  cut 
out  a  piece  for  the  high  altar),  half  gleams  through 
the  blaze  of  light,  not  so  as  to  be  enjoyed  as  a 
picture,  but  seeming,  in  a  way,  to  say  it  was  too 


A  Reed  Shaken  ivitJi  the  Wind.  79 

grand,  and  well  worth  being  looked  at,  to  be  seen 
through  the  medium  of  wax  candles. 

"  The  only  way  to  know  anything  of  these  fres- 
cos is  to  do  as  I  did  the  next  day.  I  extended 
myself  at  full  length  on  one  of  the  cushioned  seats, 
and,  with  a  powerful  opera-glass,  enjoyed  them  at 
my  leisure.  I  could  not  leave  them  for  hours,  and 
the  consequence  is  my  eyes  have  ached  ever  since. 

''The  screen  which  divides  the  chapel  is  very 
open,  and  through  it  no  woman  is  allowed  to  pass. 
Beyond  was  a  perfect  blaze  of  the  gold  and  lace 
dresses  of  the  different  grades  of  priests,  but  the 
chapel  has  no  other  ornament  than  its  painted  walls 
and  roofs,  and  massive  gold  candlesticks. 

*'  I  should  like  to  have  looked  at  the  whole  scene 
from  above,  for  we  must  have  improved  it  contrary 
to  the  custom  of  most  masses  of  ladies  ;  we  were 
all  obliged  to  be  dressed  in  black,  with  long  veils 
instead  of  bonnets.  It  is  astonishing  how  well  this 
mass  of  black  figures  (divided  from  the  gentlemen) 
looked  against  all  the  gorgeousness  of  the  chapel 
and  the  splendid  dresses  of  the  Guards. 

"  And  then  the  music  1  Such  curious  sounds  ; 
they  seemed,  somehow,  to  come  straight  from  the 
Middle  Ages. 

*'  Only  vocal  music  is  allowed  in  the  presence  of 
the  '  Holy  Father,'  so  you  hear  nothing  but  these 
unusually  lovely  voices  singing  difficult  and  quaint 
compositions  in  a  marvellous  way,  as  true  as  if 
each  note  were  a  musical  instrument. 


8o  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wutd. 

**We  stayed  some  time,  and  then  went  down 
the  ghostly  staircase,  with  the  beautifully  dressed 
men  on  it,  and  drove  away  through  the  narrow 
streets  to  the  front  o{  a  small  cafe,  out  of  which 
they  brought  us  cups  of  chocolate. 

"  Then  we  went  on  to  St.  Luigi  Francese,  which 
much  disappointed  us — a  regular  ball-room  illum- 
ination on  the  high  altar — the  most  monotonous 
vespers  with  organ  obligatos,  and  a  tremendous 
crowd  of  English  sight-seers.  It  gave  me  a  curi- 
ous and  melancholy  feeling  of  pity  for  the  dull  lives 
of  these  poor  priests,  who  don't  believe  half  the 
absurd  stories  with  which  they  delude  the  Roman 
peasantry. 

''  I  must  tell  you,  too,  about  the  wonderful  ex- 
hibition of  the  famous  Bambino,  a  little  Vv^ooden 
figure,  supposed  to  be  blessed  with  the  power  of 
curing  any  illness — in  fact,  to  be  Christ  as  a  baby. 
This  Bambino  is  a  very  great  personage,  and  when 
the  Republic  was  going  on  they  gave  it  the  Pope's 
grand  carriage  to  go  about  in  and  do  its  miracles 
with,  but  when  the  Pope  came  back  they  took 
away  the  grand  carriage  and  gave  it  an  ugly  old 
worn-out  one  instead.  We  went  to  see  the  Bam- 
bino at  the  Ara  Cseli.  It  is  put  into  the  middle  of 
a  scene  like  a  theatre  scene,  with  the  Virgin  ador- 
ing ;  a  landscape,  and  in  the  distance  the  Magi  ar- 
riving on  horseback,  a  heavenly  host  above  in  the 
clouds — all  lighted  up  very  prettily,  and  all  ador- 
ing the  l^ambino.      Opposite  this   little   arrange- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wnid.  8i 

ment  is  a  raised  platform,  where  small  children 
stand,  and  argue  points  of  religion  and  declaim  lit- 
tle set  speeches.  It  was  the  most  absurd  spectacle 
I  ever  saw  ;  they  act  and  they  spout  the  most 
high-flown  spread-eagle  sentences,  and  gesticulate 
to  any  extent.  This,  however,  was  their  kind  of 
argument : 

'*  '  Why  was  not  the  Bambino  born  in  the  Vati- 
can, as  it  is  such  a  beautiful  place  ?  ' 

*'  '  He  might  if  he  liked,'  said  the  other. 

*'  'Well,  why  didn't  he?' 

*'  '  Because  he  was  born  in  a  manger  to  teach 
us  the  beautiful  virtue  of  humility.' 

''  They  don't  mention  the  little  fact  of  the  Vati- 
can not  having  been  built  at  that  time. 

"  Some  of  the  figures  are  made  as  large  as  life, 
and  the  Christ  is  said  to  be  cut  out  of  wood  from 
Mount  Lebanon.  Mr.  Howard  was  in  the  church 
when  they  were  arranging  the  scene,  and  one  man, 
I  suppose  a  monk,  with  an  eye  for  arranging  tab- 
leaux, stood  a  little  way  off,  saying,  '  move  that 
goat' — '  put  that  goat's  tail  further  that  way,'  etc. 

"  Our  party  to  see  the  Vatican  by  torchlight 
was  a  very  successful  one  ;  it  was  a  private  illumi- 
nation got  up  by  Mr.  Howard  and  ourselves.  We 
walked  about,  a  ghostly  mass,  with  our  torch- 
bearers  in  front  of  us,  for  two  hours  among  all  the 
wonderful  galleries — full  of  wonders,  of  which  we 
could  only  see  one  or  two  in  each.  It  was  the 
most  beautiful  thing  I  have  ever  seen  in  my  life. 
4* 


82  A  Reed  Shake  ft  with  the  Wind. 

"  The  Apollo  (except  the  horrid,  modern  hands 
they  have  stuck  on  his  beautiful  arms)  is  quite 
enough  to  take  your  breath  away ;  all  the  Venuses 
in  the  world  sink  into  insignificance  by  comparison 
with  him,  and  my  respect  for  men  has  most 
strangely  risen  since  I  have  seen  what  they  might 
be,  if  they  were  only  more  like  the  Apollo.  But 
it  would  take  ten  letters  of  ecstatic  rapture  to  give 
you  an  idea  of  all  we  saw  that  night  in  the  Vatican. 

*'  When  Ave  came  back  your  little  possession 
drank  four  cups  of  tea,  and  over-ate  herself  with 
cake  and  bread  and  butter.  I  should  like  to  re- 
turn home  to  you  as  plump  as  a  little  pigeon,  and 
with  life  enough  in  me  to  scatter  into  another 
world  all  your  horrid  detes  noires  respecting  my 
want  of  strength  of  mind,  or  body,  for  a  life  with  a 
limited  income. 

"Mr.  Sedley  is  in  Rome;  do  you  remember 
taking  me  to  his  studio  in  London  ? 

'*  I  like  so  to  meet  people  I  first  saw  with  you. 

."  Oh,  darling  Wil,  what  a  glorious  life  we  shall 
have  together  in  the  future  !  It  seems  too  good 
to  look  forward  to,  lest  it  never  should  be  realized. 
We  are  enough  and  sufficient  for  ourselves,  are  we 
not,  Wil,  and  not  the  faintest  breath  of  harm  can 
touch  us  from  any  one  but  each  other.  As  for 
society  and  the  world — I  should  like  you  to  see 
the  inside  of  my  heart  for  once,  and  you  would  see 
how  callous  and  indifferent  I  am,  and  how  I  laugh 
at  the  world. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  83 

"And  now,  my  own  Wil,  what  wishes  can  I 
offer  you  for  the  New  Year  ?  Only  that  we  may 
be  allowed  to  end  it  together  in  the  enjoyment  of 
the  peace  and  great  happiness  we  can  make  for 
each  other.  I  hated  so  to  think  of  you  alone  on 
Christmas  Day,  and  I  wondered  if  you  were  think- 
ing as  I  was  of  sweet  days  to  come. 

**  Ever  your  loving 

*'TlNY." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  Limit  your  wants :  the  Must  is  hard,  and  yet  solely  by  this 
Must  can  we  show  how  it  is  with  us  in  our  inner  man.  To  live  ac- 
cording to  caprice  requires  no  peculiar  powers." 

Goethe, 

After  reading  this  letter  it  was  natural  for 
Wilfred  Lane  to  believe  that  Tiny's  heart  was  all 
his  own,  and  that  any  sacrifice  she  would  have  to 
make  as  his  wife  would  be  fully  recompensed  by 
his  devoted  affection  and  their  perfect  spiritual  and 
intellectual  union.  Rank  and  wealth  without  this 
would  be  destitute  of  all  that  seemed  as  necessary 
to  her  as  the  very  air  she  breathed.  Such  a  posi- 
tion would  be  worse  than  absolute  poverty. 

A  small  house  and  the  difficulty  of  "keeping 
down  the  weekly  bills  "  might,  and  probably  often 
would,  prove  distasteful  to  Tiny  ;  but  a  marriage 
which  was  incomplete  and  insufficient  would  be 
little  less  than  dangerous  to  a  girl  of  her  tempera- 
ment. Combined  with  the  many  good  points  in 
Tiny's  nature  there  were  evil  tendencies  of  no 
common  strength,  and,  under  such  circumstances, 
these  would  most  assuredly  assert  themselves. 

The  thought  that,  by    present   rigid    economy, 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  85 

some  of  Tiny's  difficulties  in  their  future  home 
might  be  diminished,  afforded  precisely  the  stimu- 
lus Wilfred  Lane's  own  character  required. 

He  was   not  an  idle   man,  and  whilst  he  keenly 
appreciated  physical  ease  and  all  the   outward  re- 
.  finements  of  life,  he  was  very  far  removed  from 
being  a  mere  pleasure-seeker. 

His  indifference  to  money  amounted  almost  to  a 
positive  fault,  and  his  carelessness  as  to  his  expen- 
diture had  on  one  occasion  placed  him  in  a  posi- 
tion which  he  did  not  scruple  to  condemn  as  dis- 
honest as  well  as  dishonorable.  It  was  true  that 
he  had  not  wilfully  lived  beyond  his  income  like 
many  men,  who,  for  the  sake  of  luxuries  they  can- 
not afford,  draw  bills  they  know  they  can  never 
meet,  content  when  the  day  of  reckoning  comes  to 
fall  back  upon  ''the  governor,"  or  to  diminish 
without  remorse  the  slender  resources  of  some  in- 
dulgent mother,  who  has  to  deny  herself  absolute 
necessaries  in  order  to  pay  for  extravagance,  if  not 
vice. 

This  Wilfred  would  have  scorned  to  do. 

His  humiliation  was  almost  excessive  when 
he  found  what  his  easy  way  of  taking  things  had 
entailed,  and  it  quite  aroused  him  from  indolent 
but  refined  enjoyment. 

Hitherto  his  intellectual  life  had  been  more 
dreamy  than  practical  ;  now  he  determined  to 
turn  it  to  better  account.  It  would,  however, 
have    taken  him    some  time   to  extricate   himself 


86  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

from  a  state  he  regarded  with  nothing  less  than 
abhorrence,  but  for  an  unexpected  legacy  from 
an  old  lady  to  whom  his  father  had  rendered 
an  important  service.  This  enabled  him  to  pay 
off  everything  without  telling  his  family  of  his 
difficulties  ;  though  Lady  Harewood  often  won- 
dered what  Wilfred  had  done  with  the  money, 
and  remarked  that  he  seemed  more  careful  after 
he  had  received  the  thousand  pounds  than  he 
was  before,  and  never  resumed  his  stall  at  the 
Opera,  which  up  to  that  season  he  had  seldom 
been  without. 

All  this  happened  nearly  three  years  before 
Wilfred  fell  in  love  with  Tiny  ;  and  though  he  had 
somewhat  relaxed  his  literary  efforts,  he  had 
kept  up  his  reputation  as  the  hardest  working 
man  in  the  War  Office. 

On  his  return  from  Folkestone  he  had  resolved 
on  a  winter  of  real  work,  during  which  he  would 
spend  as  little  and  earn  as  much  as  he  possibly 
could.  So  he  hunted  up  the  editors  who  had 
previously  employed  him  ;  and  being  more  than 
usually  fortunate,  soon  found  himself  in  the  full 
swing  of  work. 

He  began  to  feel  a  very  miser  ;  and  when  he 
placed  out  the  money  he  earned  in  profitable  spec- 
ulations, he  thought  of  that  wonderful  story  of 
Silas  Marner  counting  up  his  heaps  of  gold  ;  and 
felt  strangely  moved  at  the  remembrance  of  the 
old    man's    despair    at    losing    his    money-bags, 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  ^j 

and  his  tender,  pathetic  love  for  the  golden-haired 
child  who  strayed  into  his  cottage  and  reminded 
him  of  his  lost  guineas. 

Wilfred  said  nothing  to  Tiny  about  his  extra 
work,  and  although  this  incessant  occupation 
certainly  helped  him  to  adhere  to  his  plan  of 
writing  short  letters  to  Rome,  he  never  put  it 
forward  as  a  reason.  He  knew  very  well  that  he 
would  have  written  often  enough,  but  for  feeling 
that  his  restraint  better  enabled  him  to  keep  to 
the  spirit  of  his  sacrifice,  and  also  gave  Tiny  a 
fairer  opportunity  of  testing  her  attachment, 
than  if  he  fanned  the  flame  already  kindled  by  the 
constant  expressions  of  his  love.  Accordingly 
nearly  a  fortnight  passed  before  he  allowed  him- 
self to  answer  Tiny's  last  epistle  ;  and  the  very 
day  on  which  he  meant  to  write,  he  received  while 
at  breakfast  another  Roman  letter,  and  during 
the  morning  an  intimation  from  Sir  Thomas 
Slade,  which  would  have  been  a  sufficient  excuse 
for  writing  to  Tiny,  even  if  he  had  posted  one  the 
night  before. 

But  we  must  follow  these  two  events  as  they 
happened  to  Mr.  Lane. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

'*  Life  is  good  ;  but  not  life  in  itself.      So  is  youth,  so  is  beauty. 

Mere  stuff, 
"  Are  all  these  for  Love's  usance?      To  live  it  is  well ;  but  it  is 

not  enough. 
"  Well  too,  to  be  fair,  to  be  young ;  but  what  good  is  in  beauty 

and  youth, 
"  If  the  lovely  and  young  are  no  surer  than  they  that  are  neither, 

forsooth, 
"Young  nor  lovely,    of  being  beloved?     O  my  love,   if   thou 

lovest  not  me, 
'*  Shall  I  love  my  own  life  ?  " 

The  Apple  of  Life. 

*•  Thy  soul  hath  snatched  up  mine,  all  faint  and  weak. 
And  placed  it  by  thee  on  a  golden  throne." 

Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese. 

"  My  own  Wil, 

"  I  am  getting  so  impatient  of  this  '  eternal 
city '  in  spite  of  all  its  beauties,  that  unless  you 
will  let  me  write  to  you  nearly  every  day,  I  am 
sure  I  shall  soon  be  very  ill.  I  am  quite  worn  out 
by  this  continual  struggle  with  the  *  interfering 
atmosphere '  wc  talked  about.  Not  that  I  am 
weaker  in  practice  or  in  feeling  ;  but  it  is  so  wear- 
ing to  force  one's  self  back  into  one's  self,  when 
there  are  so  many  influences  pulling  other  ways. 


A  Reed  SJiakeit  with  the  Wind.  89 

"  I  daresay  you  will  tell  me  that  it  is  good  for 
me,  and  ought  to  teach  me  what  no  one  can 
teach  another — how  to  lead  my  own  life.  If  I  am 
so  weak  as  to  succumb  to  surrounding  influences, 
there  can  be  no  real  good  in  me ;  and  I  often 
think  of  what  you  used  to  say  of  the  amiable 
weakness  which  lets  people  pull  you  into  hourly 
diversions,  and  puts  an  effectual  barrier  between 
you  and  any  steady  kind  of  life. 

"  I  feel  the  want  of  some  hours  every  day 
entirely  to  myself — it  seems  so  necessary  and  yet 
so  impossible  here.  It  is  no  joke,  this  begin- 
ning to  alter  at  my  time  of  life  ;  you  may  laugh, 
sir,  but  it  is  true.  All  these  years  in  a  frivol- 
ous worldly  atmosphere  make  a  change  for  the 
better  no  quick  or  easy  process. 

"  Darling  Wil,  I  don't  know  what  benumbing 
influence  has  come  over  me,  but  I  can  enjoy  noth- 
ing, and  can  hardly  take  an  interest  in  anything. 

"  '  An  'orrible  tale  '  best  expresses  my  condi- 
tion, '  hypercondriacal,  very,' — *  the  flesh  warring 
against  the  spirit,'  is  not  a  bad  quotative  descrip- 
tion, although  not  taken  from  the  same  original. 
If  I  am  profane  I  can't  help  it.  I  shall  soon  be 
bilious  enough  to  be  absolved  from  all  moral  re- 
sponsibility. 

"  It  is  not  sunrise,  but  the  cocks  are  crowing  so-. 
I  love  the  dicky  birds  in  the  garden  here,  better 
tlian  anything  else  in  Rome,  and  the  great  watch- 
dog that  Y/ags  its  tail  at  me.      But  the  best  wag- 


90  A  Reed  Shakeji  with  the  Wind. 

ging  comes,  however,  by  the  post,  though  your 
letters  are  so  cold  that  they  make  me — savagely 
longing— especially  when  I  think  that  we  might 
have  avoided  this  separation  altogether. 

"  Still,  I  do  think  it  will  be  all  for  the  best,  if  I 
only  use  it  rightly.  Surely  no  such  pain  was  ever 
sent  for  nothing  !  And  it  would  be  utterly  un- 
fortunate, if,  instead  of  letting  it  work  its  own 
good  ends,  I  grew  hard  and  miserable,  thinking  of 
the  density  and  hardness  of  others.  So  don't  be- 
lieve that  when  I  mn  good  I  blame  you  for  send- 
ing me  to  Rome. 

''Remember  my  crack  about  acquiring  experi- 
ence. I  feel  such  a  satisfaction  when  the  pain  of 
anything  turns  to  an  acquired  piece  of  experience 
— a  greater  knowledge  of  human  nature  ;  it  more 
than  recompenses  me  for  all  the  suffering.  Per- 
haps I  am  less  sensitive  than  others,  or  more 
sanguine  ;  but  I  have  no  regrets.  If  I  were  a 
painter,  I  would  use  up  my  feelings  in  my  pictures 
— so  much  pain  to  so  much  canvas  ! 

"  It  sometimes  comes  upon  me  with  a  rush  of 
intense  feeling,  that  I  have  really  got  you  in  the 
world.  The  being  with  you  is  not  all.  There  is 
something  in  the  possession  of  such  a  love,  and 
such  a  hold  in  life,  however  distant  !  One  is  apt 
to  forget  the  sweetness  of  this  in  the  wish  for  the 
entire  satisfaction  of  being  with  you  ;  and  when 
some  sign  of  affection  in  others,  or  any  little  thing 
of  that  sort,  recalls  that  I,  too,  have  a  true  heart 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  91 

to  depend  and  lean  on — how  I  wish  the  feehng 
would  stop  there,  but  it  never  does — directly  after 
comes  the  yearning  and  longing,  with  the  dismal 
dread  lest  any  misfortunes  should  prevent  these 
longings  from  being  eventually  fulfilled. 

"■  I  think  of  all  kinds  of  dreadful  things,  and  I 
fear  them  all. 

"  Yesterday  we  drove  to  St.  Paolo,  about  three 
miles  from  here,  all  through  the  city,  out  through 
the  furthest  gate  into  the  country.  Such  a  strange 
drive,  through  filthy  places  no  one  can  imagine 
who  has  not  been  to  Rome.  The  narrow  streets 
crowded  with  peasants,  who  come  in  for  the  festa 
— very  picturesque,  but  very  dirty ;  consistent, 
very,  with  the  streets,  where,  at  every  turn, 
through  the  comical  squalid  shops  and  houses, 
peep  out  exquisite  pieces  of  old  wall,  an  old  gate- 
way, or  an  old  bridge  across  an -alley. 

'*  There  is  a  perfect  piece  of  building  left  of  the 
theatre  of  Marcellus,  the  arch  below  being  filled 
with  cheeses,  and  bunches  of  carrots  hanging 
down  under  the  beautiful  sculptured  stone-work  of 
the  ruin. 

*-'  The  Church  of  St.  Paolo  is  the  most  perfect 
thing  in  or  about  Rome.  It  is  hardly  yet  com- 
pleted, after  about  fifty  years'  hard  labor.  All 
the  Catholic  monarchs  in  Europe  have  sent 
enormous  sums  and  presents  for  it.  Such  pillars  I 
never  saw  in  my  life.      Nothing  but  one  mass  of 


92  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

marble — floor,  pillars,   and  ornaments — very  sim- 
ple, but  baffling  all  description. 

"  Imagine  yourself  in  the  highest  building  you 
ever  saw,  with  vistas  of  beautiful  marble  pillars 
going  off  into  perspective  till  they  appear  quite 
tiny,  being  really  so  high  and  massive  that  human 
figures  look  like  insects  by  them,  and  all  this  re- 
flected in  the  beautiful  expanse  of  marble  floor. 
Such  marble,  too  !  Algerian  marble  pillars — then 
porphyry  pillars — malachite  in  quantities,  given  by 
the  Emperor  of  Russia — and  lapis  lazuli  in  such 
immense  slabs  that  one  can  hardly  keep  up  one's 
respect  for  it  ;  but  the  balustrades  of  white  Car- 
rara marble  took  my  fancy  most,  with  slabs  of 
beautiful  dark-grained  porphyry  introduced  be- 
tween. 

"■  But  all  this  on  paper  will  not  give  you  the 
faintest  idea  of  the  simple  huge  magnificence  of  the 
place,  which  outside  is  the  most  hideous  granary- 
looking  building  you  can  conceive. 

*'  To-day  we  have  been  to  see  an  antique  statue 
in  gilded  bronze,  just  discovered  under  a  palace. 
The  man  who  found  it,  and  to  whom  it  belonged, 
thought  he  would  send  it  to  England  and  exhibit 
it  at  a  guinea  a  head.  He  was  dissuaded  from 
this,  and  told  that  English  people  do  not  care  for 
such  things,  though  they  make  a  great  fuss  about 
them  when  they  come  out  here.  He  then  offered 
it  to  the  Pope,  who  said  he  would  much  like  to 
have  it  for  the  Vatican,  but  had  not   a  penny  he 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  93 

could  call  his  own  to  pay  for  it.  So  the  man 
magnanimously  gave  it  to  the  Vatican  ;  and  the 
Pope  made  him  a  marquis,  and  has  given  him  the 
monopoly  of  fish  or  salt  for  two  years,  and  taken 
all  the  mortgages  off  his  property.  Don't  they  do 
things  absurdly  here  ? 

"  And  to  see  the  statue  !  It  is  twelve  or  four- 
teen feet  high,  in  bronze,  covered  with  gold  which 
is  quite  bright.  It  is  a  Hercules,  and  very  hand- 
some ;  but  they  have  not  raised  him  upon  his 
stumps  yet  (he  has  not  got  any  feet,  at  least  not 
on — one  is  in  a  corner  of  the  room  and  the  other 
is  in  his  lion's  skin),  so  he  is  left  lying  flat  on  his 
back.  But  the  room  they  have  put  him  in  is  pos- 
itively ridiculous.  It  is  all  decked  out  in  pink 
tarlatan,  edged  with  gold  tinsel,  red  cotton  velvet 
— with  stars  over  the  walls,  and  the  whole  is  dec- 
orated with  the  shabbiest  of  theatre  tinsel.  I 
should  like  you  to  see  the  chaste  taste  of  these 
modern  Romans  :  such  an  appropriate  room  for 
an  antique,  and  all  made  on  purpose  ! 

•  •  •  •  t  ■  • 

**  Thursday. 
"■  We  have  just  had  a  delicious  walk  in  the 
Borghese  Gardens.  This  place  is  a  combination 
of  everything  that  is  most  delightful  in  the  world. 
Old  statues,  lovely  fountains,  ilex  groves,  and  dis- ' 
tant  hills.  These  beautiful  things  \vould  gladden 
your  eyes  and  soul  ;  and  I  think  that  of  all  the 
delights  with  which   Rome  is  filled,  the  Borghese 


94  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

Gardens  have  hitherto  enchanted  me  the  most. 
But  in  everything  one  sees  there  is  one  great  dis- 
satisfaction— such  a  feeHng  of  what  they  would  all 
be,  if  one  could  only  live  in  and  with  them — an 
appreciation  of  what  they  would  be  tlieri,  much 
more  than  the  actual  pleasure  they  give  one  iiozv. 
Of  course  this  doesn't  affect  the  pictures  or 
statues  so  much  as  the  buildings,  ruins,  and  coun- 
try. I  hate  all  incomplete  experience — it  leaves 
me  with  such  a  savage  craving  ! 

"  I  should  like  to  end  our  days  together  in 
Rome,  when  you  have  done  grinding  at  that  mis- 
erable old  War  Office  ;  and,  indeed,  I  often  think 
you  might  do  many  things  better  for  you  even 
now.  My  money  would  go  a  long  way  in  Rome, 
if  we  lived  quietly,  and  you  might  be  made 
Special  Correspondent  to  The  Times,  and  all  sorts 
of  things.  I  am  sure  this  lovely  place  would  fill 
you  with  such  fresh  and  beautiful  thoughts  .that 
you  would  write  about  them,  and  gladden  the 
hearts  of  those  poor  souls  in  dreary,  foggy  Eng- 
land. 

**  The  very  sense  of  living  out  here  is  delicious, 
and  I  am  sure  you  would  be  a  different  person  if  I 
could  only  get  you  aw!iy  from  the  damp  climate 
and  keen  winds  at  home.  Yet,  to  some  people, 
Rome  is  very  trying  ;  last  week  we  had  a  good 
deal  of  rain,  with  a  sirocco  wind,  and  the  warm, 
dry  atmosphere  the  sirocco  brings  with  it.  As  a 
rule,  however,  they  say  the  winter  here  is  bright, 


A  Reed  Shaken  ivith  the  Wind.  95 

clear,  and  coldish.  Certainly,  whenever  we  have 
the  good  fortune  to  get  rid  of  the  sirocco,  the 
weather  is  perfect,  and  the  air  is  so  fresh  and  crisp 
that  it  acts  like  a  tonic. 

**  And  now  I  must  tell  you  about  our  presenta- 
tion to  the  Santa  Padre,  by  whom  we  were 
blessed.  He  is  a  charming  old  man,  such  an  in- 
ducement to  turn  Catholic  !  We  all  went  dressed 
in  black,  with  black  lace  over  our  heads.  We  sat 
with  some  ladies  in  a  long  sort  of  gallery  ;  then 
the  Pope  came  round  and  spoke  to  us  all,  and  we 
knelt  down  and  kissed  his  hand.  He  gave  us  a 
little  address,  while  we  continued  kneeling  ;  told 
us  how  much  he  desired  our  welfare,  and  that  of 
our  families  and  friends,  and  how  earnestly  he 
hoped  we  would  attend  to  the  affairs  of  our  souls. 
Then  he  blessed  us,  and  a  number  of  rosaries  and 
other  things  people  had  brought,  after  which  he 
toddled  away.      His  manner  was  too  sweet  ! 

'*  The  Howards  came  back  with  us,  and  Mr. 
Howard  told  us  such  a  capital  story  about  Captain 
.  Queen  Victoria  honored  him  with  an  in- 
vitation to  Osborne  Castle  on  his  return  to  Eng- 
land after  his  search  for  Sir  John  Franklin  in  Polar 
regions,  and  he  told  Lady  Franklin  afterwards  that 
he  sat  by  the  Princess  Royal,  and  thought  her 
very  odd,  for  she  laughed  at  nearly  every  sentence' 

he  uttered.      It  turned  out  that  Captain  had 

given  her  good  cause  to  laugh.  Not  accustomed 
to    Courts,  he  had  gone    to    Osborne,    oppressed 


g6  A  Reed  SJiaken  witli  the  Wind. 

with  the  terrible  conviction  that  whenever  he 
spoke  to  a  royal  personage,  he  must  use  some  for- 
mal title  ;  and,  in  his  absent  way,  whenever  he 
spoke  to  the  Princess  Royal,  he  called  her  '  Your 
Holiness.'  I  think  this  was  enough  to  upset  any 
one's  gravity.  But  they  say  the  Queen  was  very 
angry  with  the  Princess  for  laughing  at  the  poor 
man. 

"  I  like  Alice  Howard  extremely  ;  she  is  a  true- 
hearted,  nice  girl — thoroughly  Catholic.  I  think 
all  English  Catholics  have  a  peculiar  manner ; 
simple,  gentle,  and  rather  up  in  the  clouds,  without 
being  dreamy.  There  is  nothing  after  all  influ- 
ences people  so  much  as  their  religion.  Don't 
you  think  so  ? 

*'  To-morrow  we  go  to  the  Palazzo  Doria. 
Sight-seeing  is  our  principal  occupation  ;  and  there 
is  too  much  variety  here  in  that  line,  for  the  others 
ever  to  tire  of  it,  or  even  to  get  through  it  all  in 
one  winter. 

'*  As  to  society,  we  know  several  people  now  in 
Rome,  and  are  constantly  seeing  them,  at  our 
hotel,  or  forming  parties  to  visit  the  churches, 
picture-galleries,  etc. ,  together  in  a  friendly  socia- 
ble way  ;  but  I  have  refused  to  go  to  any  of  the 
large  receptions.  I  have  too  much  to  do,  and  feel 
too  tired  to  make  any  efforts  to  increase  my  ac- 
quaintance ;  and  the  gossiping  stories  one  hears  on 
all  sides,  from  those  who  go  about  a  great  deal 
and  make  society  their  principal  business,  do  not 


A  Reed  Shaken  zvitJi  the  Wi7id,  97 

give  me  a  very  inviting  idea  of  Roman  society, 
but  make  me  all  the  more  anxious  to  keep  out  of 
the  way  of  it.  Madeline  and  Charlotte  are  going 
to  two  dances  in  succession  early  next  week  ;  one 
at  the  French  Embassy,  and  the  other  at  the  Ash- 
crofts,  who  have  one  of  the  pleasantest  houses 
here,  and  receive  every  Sunday  evening. 

"  Your  pretty  little  friend,  Mrs.  Willoughby,  is 
here.  She  has  been  seriously  ill  with  inflamma- 
tion of  the  lungs,  but  is  getting  up  her  strength 
again  now.  She  is  going  with  us  on  Saturday  for 
a  delightful  excursion  into  the  mountains. 

*'The  thing  I  like  best  about  Rome  is  getting 
out  of  it ;  it  is  cheerful  even  to  play  at  going  away. 
Oh,  Wil,  you  would  not  doubt  about  the  future  if 
you  could  only  see  into  my  heart,  and  find  how 
full  it  is  of  you,  and  know  how  constantly  I  long 
for  the  presence  of  the  sweet  love  I  want  so  much. 
You  might  well  indeed  be  content.  Never  have  I 
recognized  more  than  to-day  the  necessity  of  your 
love  to  make  my  life  complete.  I  did  not  know 
how  essential  you  were  to  me  till  I  felt  what  every 
day  increases — the  longing  for  just  that  one  thing 
which  makes  life  perfect,  come  what  may  from  the 
outer  world. 

'*  Yes,  you  dear  self-contained  old  Wil.      I  don't^ 
think  you  would  hesitate  to  claim  your  little  girl, 
if  you  could  see  for  one  half  minute  into  her  heart 
of  hearts — which  is  all  yours. 

''  Good-by,  my  own  !      Remember  a  yearning, 
.5 


98  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

lonely,  wretched,  little  being,  who  longs,  and 
longs,  and  prays,  and  loves,  and  does  all  in  fact 
that  such  tormented  little  halved  creatures  gen- 
erally do,  and  all  to  no  purpose. 

**  Your  own,  and  yours  forever, 

'*  Tiny. 

"P.  S. — I  send  you  some  little  ties  which  you 
must  wear  and  fancy  yourself  at  Rome." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

**  Let  us  be  content,  in  work, 
To  do  the  thing  we  can,  and  not  presume 
To  fret  because  it's  little." 

Aurora  Leigh. 

As  Wilfred  read  the  last  sentence  in  Tiny's  let- 
ter he  was  unpleasantly  aroused  to  a  sense  of  the 
flight  of  time,  by  the  peculiarly  loud  and  unmusi- 
cal sound  of  his  landlady's  staircase  clock  ;  so, 
hurriedly  thrusting  his  arms  into  his  coat,  he  made 
his  way,  regardless  of  appearances,  past  Bucking- 
ham Palace,  through  St.  James's  Square  into  Pall 
Mall. 

Wilfred  had  hardly'settled  down  to  his  work  be- 
fore he  received  a  summons  to  his  chief's  private 
room. 

When  he  entered.  Sir  Thomas  Slade  was  finish- 
ing a  letter,  and  looking  up  hastily,  said  in  a 
courteous  tone,  "  Good  morning,  Mr.  Lane  ;  I 
shall  be  disengaged  in  a  few  minutes." 

Wilfred  sat  down  by  a  table  on  which  lay  T/ie 
Times  ;  and,  after  glancing  at  the  latest  telegrams^ 
he  began  to  speculate  in  an  unusually  curious  way 
upon  Sir  Thomas  Slade's  motive  for  sending  for 
him. 


lOO  A  Reed  Shaken  zvith  the  Wind. 

There  was  nothing  very  remarkable  in  the  cir- 
cumstance after  all  ;  but,  somehow  or  other,  Wil- 
fi  ed  Lane  felt  his  attendance  that  morning  had  not 
been  required  in  the  mere  ordinary  course  of  busi- 
ness. Knowing  how  little  Mr.  Chamberlain  (Sir 
Thomas'  Private  Secretary)  had  been  at  the  office 
during  the  last  week,  owing  to  his  rapidly  failing 
health,  Wilfred  began  to  think  Sir  Thomas  Slade 
was  about  to  ask  him  to  do  some  of  Chamberlain's 
work,  while  the  latter  took  a  month's  rest  at  Pau 
or  Mentone — a  plan  of  which  he  had   often  talked. 

''  I  sent  for  you,  Mr.  Lane,"  at  last  began  Sir 
Thomas,  laying  down  his  pen,  **  because  I  regret 
to  say  Mr.  Chamberlain  is  obliged  to  give  up  his 
work  altogether.  As  the  gentleman  to  whom  my 
secretaryship  was  promised  is  unable  from  private 
reasons  to  accept  it  now,  I  have  much  pleasure  in 
offering  it  to  you,  having  noticed  that  you  are  the 
most  careful  and  accurate  man  in  the  office." 

**  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  accept  it,  sir,"  said 
Wilfred,  who  was  greatly  surprised  at  this  stroke 
of  good  fortune,  "  and  I  feel  very  grateful  for  the 
kind  opinion  you  have  expressed,  which  I  hope  I 
may  always  deserve." 

"  You  must  be  prepared  to  enter  upon  your 
new  duties  at  once,  in  fact,  this  very  day  ;  "  and, 
as  he  spoke,  Sir  Thomas  pushed  a  bundle  of 
letters  across  the  table  to  Wilfred.  "The  truth  is. 
poor  Chamberlain  was  not  fit  for  much  last  week, 
and   these    papers     have    accumulated     in    conse- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind,  loi 

quence.  You  will  find  my  notes  on  the  back  of 
each  ;  be  good  enough  to  carry  out  my  instruc- 
tions, and,  when  you  observe  a  cross  at  the  end  of 
my  memoranda,  you  may  know  I  wish  to  sign  the 
letter  myself,  it  must  therefore  be  written  accord- 
ingly. I  daresay  for  the  next  day  or  two  you  will 
meet  with  several  signs  which  will  puzzle  you ;  get 
through  the  work  which  is  plain,  and  then  come  to 
me  with  any  requiring  explanation.  I  shall  ex- 
pect a  little  extra  interruption  at  first." 

After  a  few  more  directions,  Sir  Thomas  desired 
Mr.  Lane  to  take  possession  of  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain's room,  and  informed  him  that  his  additional 
salary  would  commence  from  that  day. 

When  Wilfred  found  himself  fairly  installed  in  Mr. 
Chamberlain's  place,  it  was  contrary  to  human  nat- 
ure to  expect  he  should  think  of  another  man's 
misfortunes,  rather  than  of  the  good  which  they 
had  been  the  means  of  bringing  him. 

Here,  indeed,  was  a  sudden  rise,  and  an  utterly 
unexpected  one. 

His  work  would  of  course  be  considerably 
heavier,  and  far  more  onerous ;  but  an  extra  salary 
of  ;^250  a  year  made  the  former  sink  into  insignifi- 
cance, and  the  latter  he  contemplated  with  unmiti- 
gated satisfaction.  Now,  he  thought,  he  should 
have  an  opportunity  of  proving  his  real  value,  and 
this  secretaryship  might,  perhaps,  lead  to  some 
ultimate  advancement. 

Wilfred   Lane   knew  his  own  powers,   and  felt 


I02  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind, 

they  could  be  much  better  employed  in  the  pubHc 
service,  in  positions  of  greater  trust  than  the  one 
he  had  previously  occupied.  Possessing  an  evenly 
balanced  mind,  without  any  tendency  to  conceit 
or  self-assertion,  he  was  able  to  estimate  his  own 
capabilities,  without  over-rating  or  unduly  depre- 
ciating them. 

It  is  quite  as  impossible  for  a  man  of  real  power 
to  be  unconscious  of  it,  as  it  is  for  a  woman  to  be 
ignorant  of  her  beauty  and  personal  attractions. 

A  thoroughly  educated  man,  in  the  fullest  sense 
of  the  word,  Wilfred  knew  what  faculties  he  pos- 
sessed, and  the  uses  to  which  he  could  best  apply 
them — the  first  step  to  enable  an  individual  to  act 
wisely  in  any  station  of  life.  But  he  had  also  rea- 
lized one  of  the  last — the  significance  of  almost 
every  act  of  a  man's  daily  life,  in  its  ultimate  oper- 
ation on  himself  and  others  ;  and,  having  naturally 
a  very  strongly  marked  character,  his  gentleness 
and  modesty  shone  out  with  an  unusual  grace,  for 
these  qualities  were  in  keeping,  as  they  always 
must  be,  with  the  largeness  of  his  apprehension 
and  his  perception  of  the  infiniteness  of  the  things 
he  could  never  know. 

The  first  day's  work  in  his  new  position  did  not 
prove  a  light  one.  It  was,  indeed,  true  that, 
owing  to  Mr.  Chamberlain's  illness  and  irregular 
attendance,  all  the  less  pressing  letters  had  been 
laid  aside  until  they  had  accumulated  into  a  very 
formidable  heap.     Wilfred  v/as  busy  over   them, 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  103 

when  he  was  surprised  by  a  kind  letter  from  Mr. 
Chamberlain,  saying  how  glad  he  was  to  hear  that 
Lane  was  his  successor.  Had  he  been  able  to 
leave  home  he  should  have  looked  in,  to  explain 
the  way  in  which  he  left  Sir  Thomas  Slade's  pa- 
pers. Should  Lane,  however,  require  any  infor- 
mation, and  think  it  worth  his  while  to  call,  he 
knew  where  to  find  him. 

Wilfred  was  pleased  with  Mr.  Chamberlain's 
letter,  which  gave  him  the  opportunity  of  calling 
as  soon  as  he  left  the  War  Office.  But  he  could 
not  wait  till  then,  and  lose  a  day's  post,  before  he 
despatched  a  note  to  Rome  to  tell  Tiny  of  his  ap- 
pointment. If  he  had  hitherto  restrained  his  feel- 
ings when  he  wrote,  in  accordance  with  his  resolu- 
tion, there  was  no  reason  to  deprive  her  of  the 
pleasure  of  hearing,  as  soon  as  possible,  of  a  pro- 
motion which  would,  at  any  rate,  make  their  mar- 
riage a  degree  less  difficult  than  it  seemed  after 
that  fearful  talk  with  Lady  Hare  wood,  when  his 
''miserable  prospects"  and  ''uncertain  health" 
were  so  vividly  brought  before  him. 

As  Wilfred  recalled  that  afternoon  he  could  not 
help  feeling  heartily  glad  that  he  owed  his  present 
appointment,  not  to  private  interest,  but  to  the 
reasons  assigned  by  Sir  Thomas  Slade.  Above 
all,  he  congratulated  himself  that  he  was  by  no 
means  indebted  to  his  aunt  for  it.  Lady  Hare- 
wood  had  made  him  sensible  of  former  obligations 
in  a  manner  which  did  a  great  deal  towards  lessen- 


104  ^  Reed  Shaken  tvith  the  Wind. 

ing  the  gratitude  he  would  otherwise  have  felt, 
and  raising  in  its  place  a  devout  hope  that  she 
would  in  future  refrain  from  bestowing  any  favor 
upon  him. 

So  a  few  lines  were  scribbled  off  to  Tiny,  to 
convey  the  good  news,  and  assure  her  that  her 
descriptions  of  Rome  were  glorious,  and  the  sight 
of  her  yellow  envelopes  the  only  things  which 
gave  him  any  real  pleasure.  He  hoped  soon  to 
see  another  ;  and  promised  to  answer  one  and  all 
in  a  way  which  would  thoroughly  satisfy  her  when 
she  returned  home  ;  but  at  present  she  must  take 
for  granted  all  her  own  heart  disposed  her  to  wish 
for.  She  could  not  take  more  than  he  was  ready 
to  give.  During  the  next  few  days  Wilfred  had 
enough  to  do.  He  was  anxious  not  to  get  in 
arrears  with  his  literary  work.  He  knew,  when 
once  he  had  mastered  the  accumulated  papers,  his 
official  employment  would  not  interfere  with  the 
engagements  he  had  made  in  other  directions ; 
and  he  was  bent  on  leaving  no  stone  unturned, 
both  to  make  and  save  m^oney  enough  to  furnish 
a  comfortable  little  home  for  Tiny,  so  that,  when 
Lady  Harewood  gave  her  consent,  they  would  be 
in  a  position  to  make  a  clear  start  upon  their 
mutual  income. 

With  the  money  inherited  from  his  mother,  his 
increased  salary  at  the  War  Office,  and  the  pro- 
ceeds of  his  writings,  Wilfred  Lane  already  pos- 
sessed an  income  of  eight  hundred  pounds  a  year. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  105 

It  was  true  that  his  secretaryship  was  not  a  per- 
m'anent  one,  and  there  were  chances  which  might 
curtail  the  income  derived  from  other  sources,  but 
he  was  in  a  very  hopeful  mood,  and,  in  the  face  of 
his  present  good  fortune,  not  disposed  to  take  a 
melancholy  view  of  affairs  in  general,  or  his  pecu- 
niary concerns  in  particular. 

Tiny  was  ill  in  bed  when  the  letter  containing 
the  news  of  Wilfred's  appointment  reached  her. 
The  coming  illness  upon  which  she  had  fathered 
her  melancholy  tendency  to  *' profanity"  had 
already  arrived,  not  however  as  a  bilious  attack, 
but  in  the  shape  of  a  severe  cold.  Indeed,  poor 
Tiny  had  not  left  her  room  since  the  day  on  which 
she  posted  her  last  letter. 

Her  delight  at  hearing  of  the  secretaryship  was 
as  great  as  if  Wilfred  had  been  made  Governor- 
General  of  India.  She  knew  the  addition  to  his 
salary  would  be  nothing  in  Lady  Harewood's  eyes  ; 
and  that  it  would  take  a  very  different  kind  of  ap- 
pointment to  reconcile  her  to  the  proposed  mar- 
riage ;  but  she  resolved  to  act  as  if  she  thought  her 
mother  would  offer  no  opposition,  if  Wilfred  pos- 
sessed anything  like  a  respectable  income.  Al- 
though Tiny  was  unable  to  include  the  result  of 
Wilfred's  literary  work  (for  the  simple  reason  that 
she  knew  nothing  about  it),  she  considered  his 
present  salary,  joined  to  her  income,  sufficient  to 
begin  with,  and  to  provide  a  modest  establishment 

with  the  *'  bare  necessaries  of  life." 
5* 


io6  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind, 

Not  that  Tiny  Harewood's  ideas  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  money  had  any  sound  basis.  She  knew, 
indeed,  that  she  could  not  keep  her  own  expenses 
within  bounds,  but  often  borrowed  from  her  sisters, 
to  help  her  on  to  the  next  quarter ;  even  at  the 
present  moment  she  had  two  advances  to  repay,  as 
well  as  several  outstanding  bills.  This,  however, 
only  presented  to  Tiny's  mind  a  temporary  diffi- 
culty, which  would  never  occur  in  the  future.  She 
was  even  now  **  economizing "  (according  to  her 
sense  of  the  word)  to  pay  off  these  sums  ;  and,  as 
they  had  been  spent  in  luxuries  she  ceased  to  value 
with  their  possession,  she  felt  it  would  be  easy  to 
avoid  ever  again  placing  herself  in  a  similar  posi- 
tion. 

But  Tiny's  views  upon  expenditure  were  so  ex- 
ceedingly vague,  that  as  far  as  any  executive  fac- 
ulty was  concerned,  she  was  (with  the  best  inten- 
tions) utterly  unfit  to  be  a  poor  man's  wife.  Large 
sums  of  money  would  disappear  before  she  was 
conscious  of  it ;  for  acute,  clever,  and  observant  as 
Tiny  was  in  most  things,  pounds,  shillings,  and 
pence  had  no  power  to  make  a  mental  impression 
upon  her.  Certainly,  she  had  never  yet  tried  to 
cultivate  a  better  understanding  between  her  purse 
and  her  expenditure,  but  habitually  fell  back  upon 
her  sisters'  good-natured  practice  of  keeping  not 
only  her  accounts,  but  her  quarterly  money  ;  the 
latter  was  never  confided  to  Tiny  until  a  good 
number  of  bills  from  the  various  dressmakers,  jew- 


A  Reed  Shake Ji  with -the  Wind.  107 

ellers,  and  dry-goods  stores  patronized  by  the  little 
spendthrift  were  systematically  collected  and  paid 
by  Madeline  for  the  credit  of  the  family. 

Even  then  this  wilful  little  individual  refused  to 
inspect  the  several  items  ;  and,  while  she  laugh- 
ingly complained  of  any  reduction  in  the  money 
she  expected  to  receive,  she  resolutely  declined  to 
believe  in  the  sum  total  of  the  paid-up  accounts. 

All  this,  however,  and  a  great  deal  more,  Tiny 
intended  to  alter  when  she  married.  As  Mrs. 
Wilfred  Lane  she  had  unbounded  faith  in  her  power 
of  looking  through  the  unpleasant  red  and  blue 
books  containing  butchers',  bakers',  and  grocers' 
weekly  accounts ;  and  she  determined  to  com- 
mence her  duties  by  purchasing  a  complete  set  of 
housekeeping  books,  which  she  had  seen  in  a  shop 
in  Bond  Street,  handsomely  bound  in  green  mo- 
rocco with  gold  clasps,  and  standing  in  an  appro- 
priately expensive  case. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

**  Life  treads  on  life,  and  heart  on  heart, 
We  press  too  close  in  church  and  mart 
To  keep  a  dream  or  grave  apart." 

A  Vision  of  Poets. 

The  first  person  to  whom  Tiny  communicated 
the  news  of  Wilfred's  appointment,  was  Madehne  ; 
she  was  always  sure  of  a  certain  amount  of  sympa- 
thy from  her  sister  Madeline  ;  whose  sweetness  of 
disposition  and  natural  goodness  of  heart  made  it 
easy  for  her  to  enter  into  the  feelings  of  others,  and 
rendered  it  quite  impossible  for  her  to  banish  all 
interest  in  her  cousin,  because  she  objected  to  his 
marriage  with  Tiny,  though  of  course  she  wished 
Wilfred  had  not  fallen  in  love  with  her  sister,  and 
would  have  esteemed  him  more  highly  had  he 
yielded  at  once  to  family  opposition. 

Besides  a  strong  personal  liking  for  Wilfred, 
which  had  grown  up  during  childhood  (much  of 
which  had  been  spent  together),  and,  in  addition 
to  many  points  of  sympathy,  Madeline  had  another 
link  with  her  cousin.  Wilfred  had  often  been  ac- 
companied by  his  friend.  Captain  Grahame,  in  his 
visits  to  the  Harewoods  ;  and,  though  no  definite 


A  Reed  Shake  J I  zuitJi  the  Wind.  1 09 

words  of  love  had  ever  passed  his  Hps,  a  secret 
understanding  existed  between  Arthur  Grahame 
and  MadeHne;  she  knew  that  she  was  loved,  and 
gave  him  her  heart  in  return. 

When  Arthur  Grahame's  regiment  was  ordered 
to  the  Crimea,  Madeline  was  with  some  friends  in 
the  North  of  Ireland  ;  but  a  message,  sent  in  the 
farewell  letter  he  wrote  to  Lane  from  Portsmouth, 
fortunately  betrayed  his  secret  to  Wilfred ;  and  it 
was  due  to  her  cousin's  thoughtful  tenderness,  that 
the  sad  news  that  Arthur  Grahame  had  been  one 
of  the  first  to  fall  at  the  storming  of  the  Redan, 
was  broken  to  her  at  a  time  when  her  sorrow  could 
find  free  vent.  Although  Madeline  had  never 
openly  acknowledged  to  Wilfred  how  much  she 
loved  his  friend,  his  exquisite  tact  and  delicacy  en- 
abled her  to  talk  freely  of  Arthur  ;  and  she  re- 
ceived from  him  a  silent  sympathy,  which,  per- 
haps, possessed  greater  healing  power  than  any 
spoken  words. 

Time  had  done  its  work  in  restoring  Madeline 
to  serenity  and  cheerfulness  ;  but  sometimes  her 
sorrow  still  asserted  itself;  and  then  the  remem- 
brance of  what  Wilfred  Lane  had  been  to  her  in 
the  hour  of  need  came  back  with  such  force  that 
she  felt  herself  a  traitor  in  opposing  his  marriage, 
and  sometimes  almost  determined  to  desert  her 
mother  and  Charlotte,  and  to  go  over  openly  to 
the  enemy. 

But,  if  she  wavered  in  giving  Wilfred  and  Tiny 


no  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

a  steady  outward  adherence,  she  certainly  could 
not  refrain  from  rejoicing  in  her  heart  at  any  good 
fortune  which  tended  to  promote  the  fulfilment  of 
their  wishes  ;  and  accordingly  she  was  as  much 
pleased  as  even  the  exacting  Tiny  could  desire,  at 
hearing  of  her  cousin's  appointment. 

While  they  were  talking  over  the  matter.  Lady 
Harewood's  near  approach  was  announced  by  the 
peculiar  rustling  of  her  stiff  silk  dress  ;  and,  as  the 
door  slowly  opened,  the  very  air  itself  seemed  to 
lose  its  light  and  pleasant  qualities  and  to  become 
charged  with  explosive  elements. 

Lady  Harewood's  entrance  always  acted  as  a 
spell  upon  her  daughters  ;  the  tone  of  their  voices 
was  not  only  lowered,  as  she  touched  the  outer 
handle  of  the  door,  but  the  conversation  entirely 
ceased,  and  was  seldom  resumed  until  after  her 
exit,  and  then  generally  in  a  different  spirit,  and  in 
another  key. 

Yet  it  was  scarcely  poor  Lady  Harewood's 
fault.  She  was  not  exactly  unkind  to  her  chil- 
dren. She  was  naturally  a  fretful  woman,  with 
irritable  nerves ;  and  her  daughters'  earnestness 
and  animation  probably  grated  as  much  upon  her 
sensibilities  as  her  own  die-away  lachrymose  man- 
ners annoyed  and  crisped  them.  But,  whatever 
may  have  been  the  cause,  the  fact  remained  the 
same  ;  and  a  want  of  sympathy  existed  between 
them,  which  doubtless  produced  bad  effects  upon 
them  all,  and  deprived  the  domestic  circle  of  that 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  1 1 1 

cordiality   and     freedom    which   alone    entitles    a 
household  to  the  sacred  name  of  home. 

The  polite  inquiries  which  Lady  Harewood 
made  respecting  Tiny's  health  were  chilling  in 
themselves,  from  a  mother's  lips. 

After  they  were  satisfactorily  answered,  Tiny 
(who  was  generally  in  the  extreme  of  either  leav- 
ing her  mother  altogether  in  the  dark  about  her 
concerns,  or  else  doing  battle  over  them  in  a 
somewhat  too  vigorous  style)  commenced  the  re- 
mark she  intended  to  make  at  the  first  opportu- 
nity : 

**  I  have  just  had  a  letter  from  Wilfred.  Sir 
Thomas  Slade  has  made  him  his  secretary,  which 
gives  him  another  ;^2  50  a  year,  so  now  we  have 
plenty  to  marry  upon." 

Lady  Harewood  expressed  herself  duly  inter- 
ested in  hearing  the  news,  and  showed  by  sundry 
signs  and  innuendoes  that  she  was  even  prepared 
to  read  her  nephew's  letter  ;  but,  gathering  from 
Tiny's  manner  that  this  unwonted  exertion  would 
be  denied  her,  she  refrained  from  directly  asking 
for  the  epistle. 

"  It  cannot  be  a  permanent  appointment,"  was 
her  freezing  remark;  ''and  as  the  Ministry  is 
nearly  sure  to  go  out  early  in  the  spring,  you  had 
better  advise  Wilfred  to  make  hay  while  the  sun 
shines,  for  it  will  not  last  very  long." 

"  I  don't  see  that  at  all,"  rejoined  Tiny;  "and 
anyhow  it  will  probably  lead  to  something  better. 


112  A  Reed  Sfiaken  with  the  Wind. 

People  like  Sir  Thomas  Slade  are  fortunately  able 
to  appreciate  something  out  of  the  common  way 
when  they  have  the  good  luck  to  meet  with  it." 

"  I  dare  say  your  cousin  is  a  very  clever  young 
man,"  rejoined  her  mother,  **  but  he  is  exceeding- 
ly opinionated  ;  and  I  cannot  say  I  think  as  highly 
of  him  as  I  did." 

"  Then  I  am  sorry  for  you,  mamma,"  said  Tiny, 
raising  herself  up  in  her  bed,  her  face  flushing 
with  excitement.  "It  is  a  pity  that  Wilfred  ever 
made  such  a  noble  sacrifice  of  his  own  wishes,  if 
you  are  incapable  of  appreciating  it.  I  always 
told  him  it  would  do  no  good." 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean  about  *  sac- 
rifice :  '  if  I  chose  to  come  to  Rome  with  your  sis- 
ters, it  was  neither  possible  for  you  to  remain 
behind,  nor  for  Wilfred  to  accompany  us.  It  was 
a  great  mistake  ever  to  allow  that  young  man  to 
make  himself  so  completely  at  home  in  my 
house." 

*'  Why,  mamma,"  exclaimed  Tiny,  *'  it  was 
Wilfred  himself  who  proposed  your  bringing  me 
to  Rome  ;  and  as  for  his  coming  to  our  house,  he 
is  the  best  man  who  ever  entered  it  since  poor 
papa  died." 

Lady  Harewood  was  exceedingly  glad  that  the 
latter  part  of  Tiny's  speech  gave  her  an  oppor- 
tunity of  evading  any  further  discussion  upon 
Wilfred's  share  in  the  visit  to  Rome.  She 
therefore  contented  herself  with  rebuking  Tiny  for 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  1 1 3 

comparing  any  one  to  her  revered  father  ;  and 
condemned  the  allusion  to  Sir  Henry  as  undutiful, 
disrespectful,  and  wanting  in  all  proper  feeling 
towards  herself  Seeing  that  Tiny  was  fast  losing 
all  self-control,  and  anticipating  an  angry  scene, 
Lady  Harewood  veered  towards  the  door  ;  and 
had  almost  left  the  room  before  she  concluded  her 
sentence.  She  saw  by  the  kindling  fire  in  Tiny's 
eye,  and  the  nervous  movement  of  her  hands,  that 
she  stood  small  chance  of  the  last  word,  unless 
content  to  drop  her  assumed  manners — exert  her 
voice  to  an  unwonted  pitch — and  to  exchange  her 
usually  languid  tone  for  something  more  natural 
though  less  polite. 

Relieved  of  her  mother's  presence,  Tiny  began 
to  cry.  She  felt  ill,  wretched,  and  hated  these 
contests.  She  had  no  intention  of  saying  any- 
thing disrespectful  to  anybody  when  she-  began 
talking ;  and  she  was  sure  that  she  had  said 
nothing  wrong  about  her  father,  for  whose 
memory  her  reverence  was  extreme. 

But  her  conscience  did  not  feel  so  clear  about 
her  mother  ;  and  the  sense  of  the  indignation  with 
which  she  regarded  her  at  that  moment,  grated 
against  the  finer  chords  of  Tiny's  character,  until 
the  whole  seemed  to  strike  a  discord. 

These  were  some  of  the  moments  when  Tiny 
longed  most  for  Wilfred.  She  would  tell  him  all 
the  little  perplexities  and  fights  which  went  on  in 
her   own  mind  ;    and  while  he  never   scrupled  to 


114  -^  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

blame  her  for  want  of  self-control,  he  always 
soothed  and  entered  into  the  intense  provocation 
produced  on  a  girl  of  Tiny's  temperament  by  con- 
tact with  a  nature  like  her  mother's — a  provocation 
which  Tiny  would  have  felt  had  Lady  Harewood 
only  been  a  person  in  whose  society  she  was 
thrown  ;  but  which  was  roused  to  an  unendurable 
pitch  by  the  very  fact  of  their  close  relationship. 

After  these  scenes  Tiny  was  occasionally  like  a 
little  mad  creature ;  her  nerves  seemed  all  un- 
strung, her  physical  condition  thoroughly  dis- 
ordered, and  she  appeared  unable  to  subdue  any 
sentiment  which  came  first  to  the  surface. 

On  the  present  occasion  the  discussion  was 
fortunately  cut  so  short  that  a  few  moments 
sufficed  to  restore  her  to  calmness ;  and  she  de- 
termined to  soothe  her  ruffled  plumes  by  inditing 
a  letter  of  congratulation  to  Wilfred. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

*  *  In  the  ardor  of  passion  they  deceive  themselves ;  how  then  can 
we  help  being  deceived  by  them  ? ' ' 

Goethe. 

**  My  Dearest  Wilfred, 

"Your  letter  has  just  arrived,  and  it  is  the  nicest 
I  have  ever  received  from  you,  although  it  only 
contains  fifty-one  words,  for  I  have  counted  them 
twice  over  ! 

**  I  am  so  delighted  with  dear  old  Sir  Thomas 
Slade  ;  I  could  hug  him,  and  I  would,  too,  if  he 
would  only  give  you  an  order  to  write  a  long 
letter  to  me  at  least  once  a  week,  as  the  first  and 
most  important  duty  of  your  new  appointment. 
I  am  sure  he  would  be  horrified  if  he  knew  how 
badly  you  treat  me.  I  don't  believe  you  care  a 
straw  for  me  now,  or  you  could  not  help  saying 
something  loving  and  kind  in  your  letters.  I 
daresay  you  pretend  that  your  feelings  are  too 
tender  for  paper.  Remember  '  Ics  extremes  se 
toiLchent.'  I  shall  be  thinking  the  unfeeling  *  ex- 
treme '  is  the  cause  of  your  silence,  if  something 
pretty  does  not  come  soon.  I  want  a  great  deal, 
and  much  which    I  cannot  have  till  I  get  home. 


Ii6  A  Reed  Shake jl  with  the  IViJid. 

When  I  think  of  getting  back  to  you  my  heart  and 
head  get  dizzy  with  delight,  for  I  am  so  lonely. 

**  I  have  just  had  a  scene  with  mamma,  which 
makes  me  long  more  and  more  to  be  with  you, 
in  the  little  home  we  pictured  together,  that 
happy  afternoon  in  the  Square  gardens.  I  feel  so 
drearily  weary  of  this  solitude  ;  and  the  contrast 
of  the  quietness,  without  the  solitude,  strikes  one 
vividly.  Such  a  home  would  fill  life  with  sweet 
hours — hours  which  would  give  me  strength  for 
any  amount  of  work  and  goodness. 

•  •••••• 

*'  Miss  Barclay  has  just  been  here.  She  came 
up  and  stayed  an  hour  with  me.  First,  she  talked 
about  Mrs.  Browning,  whom  she  knew  intimately  ; 
and  ranks  next  to  Shakespeare,  and  above  Tenny- 
son— far.  She  told  me  she  considered  it  some- 
thing in  her  life  to  have  known  such  a  person  ; 
that  while  you  were  with  her,  it  was  impossible  to 
have  a  low  or  worldly  thought  ;  she  lived  in  a 
higher,  purer  atmosphere  than  most  people  ;  and 
was,  altogether,  even  out  of  her  poetry,  the  most 
wonderful  creature  Miss  Barclay  ever  knew.  After 
saying  much  more  than  I  can  write,  she  read  from 
Mrs.  Browning's  last  volume  *  Bianca  and  the 
Nightingales ;  '  and  then  took  up  our  favorite 
Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese,  and  read  them 
through  from  beginning  to  end.  To  say  she 
reads  perfectly  is  poor  praise  compared  to  what 
she  deserves. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  117 

''When  she  came  to  ours — do  you  remember 
it?  (if  not,  look  at  your  book  and  the  mark  I  have 
added  to  your  old  date) — it  seemed  so  wrong  for 
any  lips  but  yours  to  read  to  me — *  Hozu  do  I  love 
thcCy  let  me  eoiint  the  ways  f  ' 

"  Yes,  darling  Wil,  I  can't  stand  this  much 
longer.  I  shall  become  really  sick  if  I  stay  out 
here.  I  feel  utterly  miserable  now.  The  air  is  so 
sweet  that  it  is  desperately  melancholy  work  to 
feel  ill  and  weary  in  such  a  place.  To  complete 
my  unhappy  state,  there  is  a  harmony  flute  play- 
ing melancholy  Verdi  through  the  soft  sunny 
spring  air.  You  strong-nerved  old  Wil,  do  you 
think  that  nonsense  ? 

'*  I  have  been  to  sleep,  and  I  think  I  feel  better  ! 
My  little  bow-wow  Tip  is  on  his  arm-chair  close 
beside  me  ;  he  tells  me  to  say  that  he  would  like 
to  bite  you  for  not  writing  longer  letters  to  me, 
and  is  much  surprised  that  you  have  never  in- 
quired after  him. 

•  •••••• 

*  *  Here  goes  over  all  the  ink  !  That's  a  judgment 
on  me,  either  for  repeating  Tip's  impertinence,  or  for 
quarrelling  with  mamma.  Wil,  in  spite  of  the  ink, 
I  really  think  things  look  a  little  brighter  for  my 
sleep.  Madeline  says  mamma  will  be  sure  .to 
leave  Rome  after  the  Carnival  ;  and  if  she  does 
not  go  to  Naples  (which  is  every  day  getting  more 
and  more  likely),  we  shall  come  straight  home. 


1 1 8  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

"  I  think  I  must  belong  in  some  measure  to  the 
Salamandrine  type,  or  I  should  not  have  had  such 
a  cruel  trial  as  this  sent  me  ;  but,  having  you  for  a 
support,  I  should  be  wicked  if  I  let  it  harden  me. 

"  No,  we  are  given  the  materials  for  making  our 
own  moral  sunshine,  and  make  it  we  will  !  This 
must  be  the  end  of  our  troubles.  No  more  suffer- 
ing, save  what  we  bring  on  ourselves,  or  what 
comes  direct  from  the  hand  of  God. 

*' How  delicious  to  think  of  your  new  appoint- 
ment. With  this  extra  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  we  shall  have  plenty  of  money. 

**  Madeline  tells  me  to  finish  this  directly,  or  I 
shall  lose  the  post.  I  wish  I  had  gone  on  writing 
to  you,  instead  of  going  to  sleep,  spilling  the  ink, 
and  listening  to  Miss  Barclay's  reading. 

**  Good-by,  my  own  Wil,  I  shall  make  haste 
and  learn  how  to  become  a  good  little  wifie. 

"  '  I  will  not  be  proud  of  my  youth  or  my  beauty. 
Since  both  of  them  wither  and  fade, 
But  gain  a  good  name  by  well  doing  my  duty : 
This  will  scent  like  a  rose  when  I'm  dead.' 

*'  A  little  effusion  from  Dr.  Watts,  the  effect  of 
trying  to  strengthen  my  memory ! 

**  Your  loving 

"Tiny." 

Inside  the  envelope  was  a  little  note,  which 
Madeline   had  slipped   in   unknown   to  her  sister, 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  119 

not  only  to  congratulate  Wilfred  upon  his  good 
fortune,  but  to  ask  him  to  do  his  best  to  cheer  up 
Tiny.  **  She  wants  moral  tone,"  wrote  Madeline, 
"  and  ought  to  be  made  to  feel  that  another 
month's  separation  is  not  a  lifetime.  I  know 
enough  of  low  spirits,  myself,  to  feel  very  much 
for  the  'dear  child,  and  to  wish  her  to  be  gently 
dealt  with  ;  but  don't  let  her  spoil  her  visit  to 
Rome  with  pining,  and  making  herself  ill,  if  you 
can  help  it." 

Wilfred  felt  very  anxious  when  he  read  this 
note.  He  feared  Tiny  must  indeed  be  depressed, 
before  Madeline  would  so  far  acknowledge  his 
position,  as  to  apply  for  his  influence. 

Under  these  circumstances  he  thought  himself 
entitled  to  write  a  loving  letter.  He  could  not 
bear  the  idea  that  he  was  withholding  what  Tiny 
so  sorely  needed.  It  was  bad  enough  to  have 
sent  her  away  at  all  ;  and  he  felt  strongly  tempted 
to  break  through  his  resolutions,  to  write  fully  and 
freely  from  the  depth  of  his  heart,  and  to  pour 
forth  all  the  love  he  had  been  storing  up  during 
these  dreary  weeks. 

So  he  wrote,  and  urged  Tiny  to  keep  well  and 
strong  for  his  sake  ;  to  remember  her  promise  of 
coming  back  as  **  plump  as  a  pigeon  ;  "  and  threat- 
ened to  break  down  in  his  new  work,  unless  speed- 
ily assured  of  her  convalescence.  He  spoke  of 
having  got  through  the  worst  part  of  the  time,  and 
said  he  hoped  she  would  scarcely  be  able  to  write 


I20  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

another  letter  without  telling  him  something  defi- 
nite about  her  return  home  ;  and  then  he  could 
not  refrain  from  adding  :  "Would  to  God  I  could 
tell  you  in  words  one  half  I  feel  for  you.  You 
little  know  how  I  long  for  the  time  when  my  dar- 
ling will  be  indeed,  and  in  very  truth,  my  own. 
Your  little  moans  for  my  love  are  painfully  preci- 
ous to  me.  God  hasten  the  day,  sweet  one,  after 
which  you  shall  never  look  in  vain  for  it.  Your 
weary  lonely  feeling  will  be,  I  trust,  forever  satisfied 
when  I  have  my  own  *  little  sunshine  '  in  arms 
which  long  to  enclose  her.  The  future  holds  but 
one  thing  in  it  to 

**  Yours  ever, 

'*  Wilfred  Lane." 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

**  Better  trust  all,  and  be  deceived, 
And  weep  that  trust,  and  that  deceiving; 
Than  doubt  one  heart,  that,  if  believed, 
Had  blessed  one's  life  with  true  believing. 
"  Oh,  in  this  mocking  world,  too  fast 
The  doubting  fiend  o'ertakes  our  youth  ! 
Better  be  cheated  to  the  last, 
Than  lose  the  blessed  hope  of  truth." 

Frances  A.  Kemble. 

When  Tiny  received  this  letter  she  jumped 
about  for  very  joy. 

Knowing  Wilfred's  determination  of  character, 
and  his  resolution  to  say  nothing  in  his  letters  but 
what  a  cousin  might  write,  she  felt  his  love  for  her 
must  indeed  be  deep  and  strong,  for  this  expres- 
sion of  it  to  have  escaped  him.  Of  course  she  did 
not  know  that  Madeline  had  written  ;  for  Wilfred 
gathered  from  his  cousin's  way  of  wording  hqr 
note,  that  he  was  not  to  mention  finding  it  in 
Tiny's  envelope. 

She  sent  this  answer  by  the  same  day's  post. 
6 


122  A  Rccd  SJiakcn  with  the  Wind. 

*'  Oh!  You  Dearest  Old  Boy, 

* '  I  am  so  glad  I  have  hunted  you  down  from 
your  pedestal,  and  made  you  say  one  lover-like 
thing  at  the  last  gasp  ! 

"  The  others  have  all  gone  to  the  Vatican  ;  and 
I  was  staying  at  home  by  myself,  when  your  dear 
letter  was  brought  in.  When  I  read  it,  I  was  so 
glad  I  was  alone. 

"  I  wish  you  would  always  write  to  me  what 
passes  in  that  great  heart  of  yours  ;  for  I  cannot 
help  thinking  our  future  happiness  depends  on 
our  being  one,  as  much  as  possible,  during  this 
horrible  separation.  My  letters  would  be  alto- 
gether filled  with  what  concerns  you  and  me,  only 
you  told  me  to  tell  you  of  all  I  do  and  see.  But, 
though  life  is  so  full,  and  there  is  so  much  going 
on  around  me,  when  the  day  is  over,  with  its  as- 
tonishingly beautiful  sights,  I  feel  the  awful  want 
of  my  own  true  love  to  soothe  me,  and  to  gloss 
over  everything  in  life  with  his  tenderness.  Your 
absence  is  more  a  want  at  the  root  oi  life  than  an 
absolute  active  pain. 

"  I  went  to  a  French  service  yesterday  in  a  Lu- 
theran chapel,  and  liked  the  sermon  very  much, 
because  it  reminded  me  of  what  you  had  been  to 
me.  The  text  was  from  that  chapter  where  Elijah 
goes  into  the  desert  in  a  state  of  despondency,  and 
says,  *  It  is  enough,  O  Lord;  now  take  away  my 
life,  for  I  am  no  better  than  my  fathers.' 

"The  sermon  was  on  the  moments  of  despond- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  123 

ency  which  come  to  every  one,  almost — either 
from  great  moral  pain,  or  from  emptiness  in  life, 
and  the  feeling  of  self-detestation,  or  from  the 
higher  impulses  never  being  satisfied — being  con- 
tradicted, in  fact,  by  our  habits.  And  how  all 
this  dissatisfaction  encrusts  life  with  a  melancholy 
in  the  soul,  which  brings  at  last  all  who  live  in 
and  for  the  world  to  the  state  when  death  seems 
the  only  outlet  for  their  misery.  He  described 
most  wonderfully  the  feeling  which  the  suppression 
of  all  high  motives  to  action  produces.  I  could 
not  help  thinking  of  last  year,  when  I  was  so  mis- 
erable, and  prayed  for  an  influence  strong  enough 
to  take  me  out  of  the  melancholy  of  an  excited, 
vapid  life  ;  and  how  you,  my  own  strong  Wil,  ef- 
fected what  no  saint,  angel,  or  anything  else  good 
and  human,  could  have  done. 

''  I  wonder  whether  I  shall  ever  be  able  to  tell 
you  all  that  passes  in  my  little  person  ?  If  you 
were  Father  Confessor  to  me,  as  well  as  the  many 
other  things  you  are,  it  might  be  well  !  I  cannot 
help  thinking  it  would  be  good  to  recognize  in 
words,  and  to  another — such  another  as  you  are  to 
me — all  the  shortcomings  of  one's  thoughts. 

''  Oh,  Wil,  the  w^orld  is  a  funny  place — and  it  is 
made  so  strange  by  these  queer  hearts  of  ours. 

*  *  There  are  certain  faults  which  are  scarcely 
recognizable,  and  yet  they  eat  into  the  very  char- 
acter ;  and,  more  or  less,  this  makes  the  world  at 
core  a  very  lying,  deceptive  one.       There  are  few 


124  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

if  any  saints  in  it  after  all !  There  are  many  pas- 
sionless, feelingless,  otherwise  good  people  who 
pass  for  such  ;  but  who  knows  what  calm  lives 
have  been  allotted  them  ?  I  don't  know  why  I  am 
writing  this  homily  to  you.  But  I  feel  very 
stupid.  What  does  it  matter  ?  my  old  Wil  must 
have  me — stupid  or  otherwise — ^just  as  he  finds 
me.  He  has  promised  to  take  me,  for  better  for 
worse,  and  he  can't  alter,  however  idiotic  I  be- 
come ! 

"  Your  loving 

''Tiny." 

There  was  something  in  the  tone  of  this  letter 
which  Wilfred  could  not  understand,  and  which  he 
did  not  altogether  like.  Was  it  possible  that 
Tiny,  who  appeared  so  frank  and  open,  and  who 
seemed  as  if  she  could  not  keep  the  smallest  secret 
to  herself — was  it  possible  that  she  would  hide 
thoughts  and  feelings  which  she  knew  would  cause 
him  pain,  and  perhaps  displeasure  ?  Wilfred  dis- 
missed this  idea  as  ridiculous.  Did  he  not  know 
Tiny  from  beginning  to  end — had  she  not  often 
told  him  that  no  one  in  the  world  understood  her 
but  himself? 

What  could  Tiny  have  to  hide  from  him  ? 
Nothing  surely  but  feelings  which,  as  a  wife,  she 
would  gladly  confide  to  him  ;  but  which,  divided 
as  they  were,  it  was  only  natural  she  should  retain 
in  her  own  bosom.      He  ought  to  be  satisfied,  and 


A  Reed  Shake7i  with  the  Wind.  125 

he  was  satisfied  with  the  frank  and  free  expression 
she  now  gave  to  her  affection  for  him.  The  rest 
would  all  come  in  the  happy  future,  which  Wilfred 
so  often  pictured,  as  he  walked  back  from  his 
office  ;  and  he  sighed  for  the  time  when,  instead  of 
going  to  his  chambers,  he  should  hasten  towards 
a  real  home,  and  be  greeted  by  a  fair  young  wife 
who  promised  to  bring  him  such  peace  and  happi- 
ness in  the  future. 

Had  Wilfred  been  less  occupied,  he  might  have 
dwelt  upon  Tiny's  expressions  more  than  he  did  : 
but  life  was  very  full  to  him,  and,  though  his 
whole  heart  was  centred  in  her,  other  interests 
claimed  so  much  of  his  time  that  he  was  prevent- 
ed from  following  out  the  train  of  thought  which 
this  letter  at  first  suggested. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

**  Till  I  press  thee  against  my  heart — my  wife — 
{Come  thou  wilt,  tho'  I  know  not  when) 
While  I  bide  my  time,  thus  I'll  live  my  life, 
Aye,  my  love  I  will  keep  till  then." 

Semper  Fidelis. 

Lady  Harewood  was  at  last  fairly  tired  of 
Rome  ;  and,  having  spent  a  great  deal  more  money 
than  she  intended,  did  not  care  to  go  to  Naples. 

After  all,  she  had  been  away  from  England 
for  four  months.  It  was  not  to  be  supposed  she 
should  inconvenience  herself  for  the  sake  of  keep- 
ing Wilfred  and  Tiny  apart  for  the  exact  time  sug- 
gested. Besides  which,  an  earlier  return  would 
enable  her  to  take  up  a  position  for  which  her 
nephew  would  be  unprepared,  and  of  which  she 
determined  to  say  nothing  till  she  reached  Gros- 
venor  Crescent. 

When  Tiny  heard  that  they  were  going  direct 
to  London,  her  delight  knew  no  bounds.  She  re- 
garded the  visit  to  Rome  as  the  term  of  her  sepa- 
ration from  Wilfred :  and,  being  innocent  of 
Lady  Harewood 's  further  plot  against  their  happi- 
ness, she  believed  the  barrier  to  their  union  would 
now  be  removed.     So,  a  few   days  after  Wilfred 


A  Reed  Shake Ji  zvith  the  Wind.  127 

had   received   the   letter,   which    caused    him   the 

speculations  already  recorded,  the  long-expected 

tidings   of  Tiny's    speedy    return    gladdened    his 

eyes. 

*♦  Rome. 

"  Oh,  Wilfred,  I  could  sing  with  joy  !  What  a 
blessing  it  is  that  everybody  isn't  like  you.  Had 
you  come  to  Rome  instead  of  remaining  in  Lon- 
don, I  suppose  nothing  on  earth  would  have  in- 
duced such  a  precise  old  monster  to  leave  it  a 
moment  before  the  cruel  six  months  had  expired ; 
you  obstinate,  hard-hearted  man  ! 

*' At  last  I  have  something  '  definite  '  to  tell  you 
of  our  return.  Mamma  has  determined  on  going 
straight  to  London ;  and  has  ordered  us  to  get  our 
heavy  luggage  ready  for  forwarding,  as  soon  as 
ever  we  can.  So  now  I  will  go  on  to  tell  you  of 
the  proceedings  of  a  no  longer  dreary  little  per- 
son ;  but  of  one  who  is  filled  with  delight  at  the 
thought  of  being  able  soon  to  extort  all  you  have 
promised  to  give  in  answer  to  letters,  which  have 
been  received  with  a  coolness  and  want  of  thank- 
fulness for  which  you  shall  most  certainly  be 
called  to  account. 

"  Well,  our  expedition  to  Frascati  was  delight- 
ful. It  was  a  great  success,  and  we  did  it  in  all 
completeness.  The  views  were  quite  beyond  de- 
scription beautiful,  in  their  own  line.  We  drove 
all  day  in  two  vehicles,  one  a  large  open  omnibus, 
and  the  other  an  ordinary  carriage. 


128  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

'*  We  lunched  all  together  on  a  green,  sunny 
corner  of  a  vineyard,  and  came  home  from  Albano 
by  train,  reaching  this  at  half-past  eight  o'clock. 

"  The  sunset  over  the  Campagna  was  something 
too  exquisite.  My  own  Wil  ;  we  imtst  come  and 
wander  among  these  mountains  together  ;  they  are 
so  beautiful. 

**  But  I  can't  write.  I  can  only  think  of  seeing 
dear  old  London  again,  with  its  ugly  houses  and 
dull  streets  and  squares. 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  read  Ruskin,  but  even 
that  I  could  not  do — for  a  dear  face  and  its  wicked 
brown  eyes  would  come  between  me  and  the 
pages.  I  did  enjoy  though,  immensely,  a  little  bit 
of  his  about  the  pines.  Do  you  remember  it  ? 
And  then  about  the  flowers  ;  how  and  why  the 
greatest  masters  didn't  paint  much  for  the  sake  of 
flowers,  explaining  what  I  have  often  felt  about 
them — the  limited  definite  feeling  they  leave. 
They  want  the  closest  attention  ;  but  when  you 
have  given  that  you  know  all — there  is  no  further 
mystery. 

**  Flowers,  he  says,  seem  intended  for  the  so- 
lace of  ordinary  humanity.  Children  love  them  ; 
quiet,  tender,  contented,  ordinary  people  love 
them  as  they  grow  ;  luxurious  people  rejoice  in 
them  gathered.  Passionate  or  religious  minds 
contemplate  them  with  fond,  feverish  intensity  ; 
the  affection  is  seen  severely  calm  in  the  works  of 
many  old  religious  painters.     To  the  child  and  the 


A  Reed  Shake Jt  with  the  Wind.  129 

girl,  the  peasant  and  the  manufacturing  operative, 
to  the  grisette  and  the  nun,  the  lover  and  the 
monk,  they  are  alway^precious.  But  to  the  men 
of  supreme  power  and  thoughtfulness,  precious 
only  at  times  ;  symbolically  and  pathetically  often 
to  the  poets,  but  rarely  for  their  own  sake.  They 
fall  forgotten  from  the  great  workmen's  and  sol- 
diers' hands.  Such  men  will  take  in  thankfulness 
crowns  of  leaves  or  crowns  of  thorns — not  crowns 
of  flowers.  And  then  he  tells  a  lovely  story  of 
his  friend  who  went  with  him  into  the  Tyrol  one 
early  spring  and  saw  a  strange  mountain  in  the 
distance,  belted,  he  thought,  about  its  breast  with  a 
zone  of  blue,  which  turned  out  to  be  a  belt  of  gen- 
tians, which,  as  they  approached,  expanded  into 
a  richer  breadth  and  heavenlier  blue. 

'*  It  is  such  a  strange  effect  reading  Ruskin  with 
the  window  open — a  lovely,  balmy,  spring  feeling  in 
the  air — and  the  sounds  of  all  this  idiotic  Carnival 
going  on  in  the  distance — guns  firing  for  the  races, 
and  the  noise  of  a  crowd  all  over  the  place.  We 
had  a  number  of  friends  in  our  balcony  this  morn- 
ing, throwing  sugar-plums  at  the  people  in  the 
street  below  ;  I  think  the  Carnival  stupid  beyond 
description  ;  and  how  men  can  make  such  fools  of 
themselves,  for  ten  of  God's  whole  days,  baffles 
my  comprehension. 

"  Now  that    this    separation    is    nearly   over,    I 

almost  feel   able  to  say  that  I    am  glad  I   came. 

What  you  are  to  me  I  should  never  have  known 
6* 


130  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

without  it  ;  and  this  shows  me  how  utterly  I  be- 
long to  your  life — our  life — our  sweet  life,  out  of 
the  world,  all  to  ourselves.  It  is  a  future  to  live 
for  !  But  I  shan't  feel  safe  till  I  am  really  with 
you.  The  slightest  thing  amiss,  and  I  directly 
think  of  the  dear,  strong  arm  which  makes  every- 
thing so  easy  to  bear.  I  broke  a  looking-glass 
the  other  day,  and  that  is  so  dreadfully  unlucky  ! 
I  hope  nothing  will  happen  ;  and  assuredly  it  well 
might,  for  the  delight  of  leaving  Ixere  so  soon  is 
too  much  for  me. 

"  It  is  so  delicious  to  think  I  may  begin  to  say, 
with  some  idea  of  its  being  true,  *  to-day  is  the  last 
Monday  in  Rome.' 

'*  At  the  Vespers,  yesterday,  I  pitied  all  the 
poor  old  priests  and  monks,  who  will  go  on  sitting 
in  their  places  for  ever  so  long,  without  any  Wil 
(or  its  equivalent)  to  go  to.  But  I  am  getting 
maudlin  ! 

"I  have  splendid  plans  for  the  future,  and  in- 
tend to  lead  such  a  regular  life.  It  shall  be  a 
religion  to  get  up  early;  my  physical  strength, 
will  be  devoted  to  those  things  you  have  taught 
me  to  love  ;  and  my  moral  strength  to  make  you 
happy.  So  you  see  Rome  is  very  little  to  me 
now,  one  way  or  another.  I  am  only  thinking  of 
this  day  fortnight.  Good-by,  my  own  Wil  ;  pre- 
pare yourself  for  no  end  of  torment  from  yours, 
now  and  forever, 

"Tiny." 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  131 

After  this  Wilfred  heard  no  more  until  he  re- 
ceived a  little  hurried  scrap,  dated  Hotel  West- 
1/iijister,  PariSy  which  told  him  that  the  Hare- 
woods  expected  to  arrive  at  the  Charing  Cross 
station  on  the  following  Thursday  night,  at  twenty- 
five  minutes  to  eleven  o'clock,  if  trains  and 
steamers  did  their  duty,  and  brought  them  as 
quickly  as  Tiny  wished  to  come. 


CHAPTER  XIX.* 

**  Expecting  joy  is  a  happy  pain." 

Adelaide  A.'  Procter. 

The  clock  was  striking  half-past  ten  as  Wilfred 
Lane  walked  into  the  Charing  Cross  station. 
Making  his  way  at  once  to  the  platform,  he  awaited 
the  arrival  of  the  tidal  train  from  Folkestone. 

Of  course,  it  was  late  that  night ;  and  as  Wilfred 
impatiently  paced  up  and  down,  the  idea  of  seeing 
Tiny  again  began  to  feel  like  a  dream.  It  almost 
seemed  a  trick  of  his  imagination  ;  and  he  half 
expected,  when  the  train  disgorged  its  occupants, 
that  no  Tiny  Harewood  would  be  found  among 
the  travellers.  As  he  took  her  note  out  of  his 
pocket  to  reassure  himself,  Lady  Harewood's  car- 
riage drove  into  the  station,  in  evident  anticipation 
of  what  was  to  come. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  railway  officials  began  to 
collect,  and  the  approach  of  the  train  was  so 
clearly  indicated  that  Wilfred  thought  by  the  time 
he  had  taken  one  walk  down  the  length  of  the 
platform,  his  waiting  would  be  over. 

He  had  nearly  reached  the  furthest   end,  when 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  133 

he  heard  a  quick  step  behind  him,  and  the  familiar 
voice  of  Lady  Harewood's  footman  accosted  him 
with  the  pleasant  sound — 

*'  The  train  is  just  coming  in,  sir." 

As  the  man  spoke,  it  slowly  steamed  into  the 
station,  with  a  pufif,  puff,  puff,  which  sounded  very 
differently  in  Wilfred's  ears  to  that  horrible  grating 
sound  the  steamer  had  made  at  the  Folkestone 
pier  four  months  ago. 

Tiny  Harewood  was  eagerly  looking  out  of  the 
window,  and  caught  sight  of  Wilfred  long  befoie 
the  train  stopped.  The  carriage  which  contained 
this  precious  treasure  passed  him,  though  he  had 
rapidly  walked  to  the  other  end  of  the  platform  ; 
but  it  was  scarcely  this  which  made  his  heart  bea/ 
loud  and  fast. 

By  the  time  he  reached  Tiny's  carriage  a  porter 
had  already  opened  the  door,  and  before  Wilfred 
knew  what  was  going  to  happen,  regardless  of  the 
crowd  around  her,  or  the  presence  of  her  mother 
and  sisters,  Tiny  sprang  into  his  arms,  and  gave 
him  an  embrace,  which  not  only  took  him  com- 
pletely by  surprise,  but  knocked  his  hat  off,  much 
to  the  annoyance  of  an  irascible  old  gentleman 
who  immediately  put  his  foot  through  it,  and  con- 
sidered himself  the  aggrieved  party. 

As  Wilfred  Lane  handed  Lady  Harewood  into 
what  her  daughters  always  called  the  "family 
hearse,"  he  felt  somewhat  discomposed,  for  he  was 
averse  to  public    exhibitions   of  affection.       The 


134  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

meeting  had  been  so  sudden,  and  the  unfortunate 
hat  had  taken  such  a  prominent  part  in  it,  that  he 
found  it  impossible  to  exchange  a  word  with  Tiny. 
Now  he  must  say  "  Good-night,"  for  John  and  the 
maid  had  discovered  the  luggage,  and  there  was 
nothing  more  to  detain  his  aunt. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  back  again,"  said 
Wilfred,  speaking  to  Lady  Harewood,  but  holding 
Tiny's  hand  firmly  in  his  ;  "  I  hope  you  will  let 
me  look  in  to-morrow  at  five  o'clock,  aunt. 

**  Certainly,"  she  replied,  in  a  formal  tone, 
which  augured  ill  for  the  future  happiness  of  the 
young  lovers  ;  *'  what  I  have  to  say  to  you,  Wil- 
fred, might  just  as  well  be  said  at  once." 

'*  Good-night,  Wil,"  said  Tiny;  *' I  am  so 
happy.  To-morrow  at  five  o'clock  !  Don't  be 
late,"  she  added  ;  and  the  carriage  drove  off  be- 
fore Wilfred  had  time  to  reply  save  by  an  extra 
pressure  of  the  little  hand  he  had  held  captive  dur- 
ing this  conversation. 

John  disappeared  with  his  mistress,  and  Mr. 
Lane  found  the  maid  still  struggling  with  the  lug- 
gage, which  had  yet  to  be  put  on  her  cab.  She 
was  very  grateful  for  his  assistance,  and  the  por- 
ters seemed  much  more  willing  and  brisk  now  they 
had  a  gentleman  to  look  after  them  and  the  hope 
of  a  **  tip  "  at  the  end  of  their  labors. 

Mrs.  Smith  was  not  only  fatigued  with  the  jour- 
ney, and  incensed  with  John,  who  ought,  in  her 
opinion,  to  have  kept  Lady  Harewood  waiting  till 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Whtd.  135 

he  saw  the  luggage  on  the  cab,  but  she  was  smart- 
ing under  the  sense  of  a  deeper  wrong. 

It  was,  in  her  opinion,  a  great  deal  too  bad  of 
Lady  Harewood  to  have  parted  with  her  courier 
in  Paris.  She  felt  personally  aggrieved  by  being 
obliged  to  travel  "such  a  distance  alone,  with  so 
many  changes,  and  some,  too,  amongst  foreign 
tongues  ;  "  it  was  a  position  which  she  considered 
unbecoming  to  her  ladyship  and  most  derogatory 
to  herself.  Being  left  by  John  before  the  cab  was 
ready  to  start  was  the  **  last  drop  in  her  cup,"  and 
she  determined  to  speak  very  frankly  on  the  sub- 
ject to  Mr.  Watson,  as  soon  as  ever  she  found  her- 
self in  the  housekeeper's  room  in  Grosvenor  Cres- 
cent. 

**  If  gentlefolks  wished  to  keep  up  to  their  sta- 
tion," she  intended  to  remark,  "  they  should  be- 
have different  before  a  whole  train  load  of  people, 
not  to  reckon  the  steamer,  who  might  any  day 
turn  out  to  be  the  nobility  of  their  own  circle." 

*'  Law,  Mr.  Lane,  excuse  me,  sir,"  said  Mrs. 
Smith,  when  she  found  herself  comfortably  settled 
in  the  cab,  with  the  luggage  piled  up  over  her 
head,  and  the  seats  crammed  with  the  small  bags 
and  wraps  which  had  all  been  left  by  the  offending 
John;  **but  what  has  happened  to  your  hat? 
You  can  never  walk  through  the  streets  with  it, 
sir." 

'*  Well,  I  don't  think  many  people  will  notice  it 
at  this  time  of  night,"  said  Mr.  Lane,  laughing,  as 


136  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

he  told  the  cabman  where  to  drive,  and,  with  a 
friendly  good-night  to  Smith,  whom  he  envied  from 
the  bottom  of  his  heart  when  he  thought  how  soon 
she  would  see  Tiny,  while  he  had  to  wait  till  five 
o'clock  to-morrow  afternoon,  he  watched  the  cab 
rattle  out  of  the  station,  and  walked  thoughtfully 
back  to  his  own  chambers. 

There  was  something  unpleasant  in  the  ring  of 
Lady  Harewood's  voice,  he  thought,  and  the  man- 
ner in  which  she  answered  his  request  for  leave  to 
call  on  the  following  day.  Was  it  possible  that 
she  meant  to  oppose  him  still  ?  Had  Tiny  been 
right  in  her  conjecture  that  her  mother  avoided  a 
distinct  promise  with  a  view  to  this  ? 

If  so,  what  could  he  do — -what  ought  he  to  do  ? 
He  could  no  longer  doubt  Tiny's  love.  She  had 
stood  the  test  of  a  long  separation,  and  the  greet- 
ing she  had  given  him  at  the  station  was  assurance 
enough  that  he  had  her  whole  heart,  and  that  she 
did  not  mind  who  knew  it.  Wilfred  Lane  had 
been  quite  unprepared  for  such  a  demonstration, 
and  would  certainly  have  preferred  a  less  public 
embrace.  Still,  as  a  proof  of  Tiny's  thorough  de- 
votion to  him,  the  remembrance  of  it  was  very 
precious. 

But  when  he  reached  his  lodgings  he  was  obliged 
to  dismiss  anxious  as  well  as  sweet  thoughts,  for 
he  had  some  work  which  he  knew  must  be  done 
that  night.  Exchanging  his  coat  for  a  loose  dress- 
ing-gown,  he  banked  up  his  fire,  lighted  his  pipe, 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  137 

and  spreading  out  his  papers  on  the  table  before 
him,  worked  away  for  some  hours. 

Although  not  a  strong  man,  Wilfred  Lane  had  a 
wonderful  capacity  for  being  able  to  do  with  very 
little  sleep.  After  a  night's  work  (and  sometimes 
a  night's  illness)  which  would  have  sent  many  a 
stronger  man  to  his  office  with  a  headache  and  pale 
face,  he  would  look  as  bright  as  usual  after  his 
morning  bath  and  breakfast.  This  constant  want 
of  sufficient  rest  was  beginning  to  make  him  seem 
older  than  he  really  was,  and  perhaps  added  to  the 
already  deeply-marked  lines  on  his  brow,  but 
otherwise  it  did  not  appear  to  tell  upon  him.  His 
general  health  had  certainly  rather  improved  of 
late,  and  his  heart  attacks  had  been  far  less  fre- 
quent and  severe. 

Over  and  above  the  delight  of  knowing  that 
every  hour's  labor  would  contribute  to  Tiny  Hare- 
wood's  future  ease  and  comfort,  Wilfred  Lane 
loved  his  work  for  its  own  sake.  He  was  passion- 
ately devoted  to  subjects  of  thought  out  of  the 
beaten  line  of  the  day  ;  and  he  had  naturally  an 
ardent  impulse  for  seeking  the  genuine  truth  on  all 
matters,  and  the  gift  of  finding  and  recognizing  it 
when  found.  The  impulse  for  seeking  truth  is  per- 
haps more  common  than  we  think — the  gift  of  find- 
ing it  much  rarer. 

But  his  line  of  activity  was  in  "■  the  war  for  the 
liberation  of  humanity,"  as  Goethe  calls  it.  To 
help  forward  by  unceasing  efforts  all  schemes  con- 


138  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

nected  with  education,  all  things  likely  to  promote 
a  wider  belief  and  a  fuller  service,  Wilfred  regarded 
as  little  short  of  a  positive  duty.  He  desired, 
above  all  things,  to  protest  against  the  vain  and 
foolish  cry  after  more  knowledge,  without  respect 
to  the  work  each  man  has  to  do  and  the  material 
of  which  he  is  made.  He  thought  both  men  and 
women  ought  to  be  better  educated,  but  he  wished 
them  to  have  an  education  of  purpose,  directed  to 
make  them  happy,  satisfied,  and  effective  in  their 
individual  circumstances. 

It  was  not  the  good  taste  and  varied  and  accur- 
ate knowledge  evinced  in  Wilfred's  writings  which 
made  them  come  home  to  the  hearts  of  his  read- 
ers, so  much  as  the  ready  and  frank  appreciation 
of  all  human  endeavor,  and  the  deep  sympathy 
with  all  human  misery  and  weakness,  which  shone 
through  them. 

The  quick  way  to  popularity,  however,  is  to 
mirror  back  to  the  age,  in  vivid  coloring,  its  own 
thoughts  in  sharper  outline,  for  distrust  of  novelty 
is  one  of  the  most  marked  national  characteristics 
of  our  English  people  ;  but  Wilfred  Lane  deserved, 
and  ultimately  won,  a  popularity  which  is  of  a 
slower  growth.  He  did  not  simply  reflect  the 
thought  of  the  day,  but  brought  to  it  new  thought 
and  food.  His  theology,  too,  was  anything  but 
the  theology  of  the  so-called  religious  world,  for  he 
was  as  original  as  every  man  must  be  who  has  a 
strong   convection.      His    intense    naturalism    was 


A  Reed  Shaken  zvitJi  the  Wind.  139 

fatal  to  all  routine  thinking.  He  put  the  standard 
of  right  and  wrong,  once  and  for  all,  inside  every 
man  instead  of  outside  him.  He  felt  that  every 
one  who  wished  his  influence  to  be  a  marked  one 
must  work  from  within  outwards,  and  bring  to  light 
his  own  individuality.  He  held  that  ''whatever 
happens  to  a  man  is  for  the  interest  of  the  uni- 
verse," and  that  "the  whole  contains  nothing 
which  is  not  for  its  advantage  " — a  theory  which 
enabled  him  to  bear,  with  cheerful  composure,  cir- 
cumstances in  his  own  life  which  would  otherwise 
have  been  intolerable  ;  and  believing  that  the  rul- 
ing part  of  man  can  make  a  material  for  itself  out 
of  that  which  opposes  it,  as  fire  lays  hold  of  what 
falls  into  it,  and  rises  higher  by  means  of  this  very 
material,  he  persevered  until  he  had  made  things 
his  own  ;  and  what  luxury  is  to  those  who  enjoy 
pleasure,  so  to  him  was  the  doing  of  things  com- 
fortable to  his  nature. 

He  learnt  to  hold  firmly  to  this  and  to  be  con- 
tent with  it. 

At  the  same  time  Wilfred  Lane  was  naturally 
inclined  to  regard  the  world  in  its  divisions  and 
subdivisions  ;  and,  under  the  aspect  of  individual 
cares  and  sorrows,  was  unduly  impressed  with  the 
"  night  side  of  life."  He  had  not  yet  fully  rea- 
lized life  and  light  as  synonymous,  or,  viewing 
existence  in  its  entirety,  seen  the  complete  har- 
mony of  the  whole. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

**  O  Love,  O  fire  !     Once  he  drew 

With  one  long  kiss  my  whole  soul  thro' 
My  lips,  as  sunlight  drinketh  dew." 

Alfred  Tennyson. 

As  the  hall-door  of  No.  lo  Grosvenor  Crescent 
was  opened  to  Mr.  Lane  on  the  following  after- 
noon, he  was  informed  that  Lady  Harewood 
wished  to  see  him  alone  in  her  boudoir,  into  which 
Watson  ushered  him  with  unusual  formality,  in 
evident  obedience  to  some  special  command. 

"I  thought  it  was  better  to  see  you  at  once, 
Wilfred,  as  you  requested  me  to  do  so,"  said  his 
aunt,  and  she  paused,  thinking  it  would  perhaps 
be  better  to  allow  her  nephew  to  open  the  case 
himself,  for  she  began  to  have  a  strong  sense  of 
the  difficulty  of  her  own  position. 

"After  this  long  separation,  which  has  tested 
Tiny's  feeling  for  me,  I  hope  you  will  consent  to 
our  marriage,  and  forgive  me  for  coming  to  the 
point  at  once." 

"  My  objections  are  only  strengthened,"  said 
Lady  Harewood,  coldly. 

"  Surely   you   will  not   withhold   your   consent 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  141 

now  I  am  in  a  better  position  ?  Indeed  I  have 
always  regarded  it  as  promised  in  the  event  of 
Tiny's  remaining  attached  to  me  on  her  return 
from  Rome." 

**  I  never  made  any  promise  of  the  kind." 

**  But  you  followed  the  plan  I  suggested,"  said 
Wilfred  firmly,  **  and  that  condition  was  attached 
to  it.  I  shall  scarcely  think  that  I  am  fairly  dealt 
by  if  you  still  oppose  our  marriage.  I  am  aware 
that  Tiny  might  make  a  better  match  in  a  worldly 
sense,  but  you  would  find  it  impossible  to  confide 
her  to  any  one  who  will  love  her  more  than  I  do, 
or  seek  her  happiness  more  earnestly." 

**  I  think  your  professions  would  be  better 
proved  by  your  yielding  at  once  to  the  decision  I 
feel  bound  to  make  for  my  daughter's  good.  Her 
father  had  the  greatest  possible  objection  to  the 
marriages  of  cousins,  and  I  am  only  acting  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  wishes  in  opposing  yours." 

'*  That  may  be,"  he  replied,  with  warmth,  "but 
my  uncle  would  have  had  some  consideration  for 
his  child's  affections.  I  am  sure  he  would  never 
have  sacrificed  Tiny's  happiness  to  any  theory." 

Lady  Harewood  was  conscious  of  the  truth 
contained  in  Wilfred's  answer,  and,  feeling  some- 
what beaten  on  this  point,  she  resolved  to  start 
another. 

**  It  is  my  consideration  for  Tiny  which  compels 
me  to  remind  you,  Wilfred,  that  she  has  not  even 
had   the  test  of  six   months'  absence   from   you. 


142  A  Reed  Shake tt  with  the  Wind. 

But  I  will  not  allow  for  one  moment  that,  in  fol- 
lowing out  what  you  are  pleased  to  consider  as 
your  suggestion,  I  am  bound  by  any  condition 
you  take  the  liberty  of  attaching  to  it." 

"You  surely  remember  that,  after  my  conversa- 
tion with  Sir  Anthony  Claypole,  the  winter  at 
Rome  was  planned  by  me,  because  I  felt  unwilling 
to  urge  that  which  you  so  strongly  disapproved  of, 
without  giving  Tiny  an  opportunity  of  judging  if 
a  marriage  (unfortunately  in  opposition  to  your 
wishes)  was  really  essential  to  her  happiness.  Sir 
Anthony  saw  me  at  your  request,  and  when  I  told 
him  I  should  consider  Tiny  free  to  make  any  other 
choice  during  her  absence  if  you  consented  not  to 
oppose  her  ultimate  decision,  he  said  I  could  not 
do  more,  and  expressed  himself  perfectly  satisfied 
with  my  proposal." 

"  I  had  long  thought  of  spending  this  winter 
abroad,  and  it  is  quite  absurd  of  you  to  lay  such  a 
stress  on  your  having  talked  it  over  with  Sir 
Anthony.  I  asked  him  to  tell  you  how  undesir- 
able such  a  marriage  was  for  Tiny,  and  what  an 
ungrateful  return  you  would  make  for  the  kind- 
ness I  have  always  shown  you,  if  you  persisted  in 
pressing  the  point,  but  Sir  Anthony  had  no  right 
to  answer  for  me  ;  I  should  never  authorize  any 
one  to  do  so,"  and  Lady  Harewood  grew  quite 
angry  at  the  bare  idea  of  such  a  thing. 

**  He  did  not  answer  for  you,  but  he  said  he 
thought  you  would  see  I  had  acted  fairly  in  allow- 


A  Rccd  Shaken  zvith  the  Wind.  143 

ing  Tiny  plenty  of  time  to  think  over  the  matter ; 
when  away  from  my  personal  influence." 

"I  do  not  see  that  your  mere  separation  has 
much  to  do  with  your  influence,  when  you  were 
constantly  writing  to  Tiny,  although  you  knew 
how  I  disapproved  of  your  having  any  communica- 
tion with  each  other.  You  appear  to  think  that 
you  have  acted  in  a  very  magnanimous  manner, 
Wilfred,  but  I  confess  I  fail  to  see  your  conduct 
in  that  light." 

Wilfred  Lane  felt  thoroughly  indignant,  for 
Lady  Harewood's  tone  was  even  more  offensive 
than  her  words.  With  a  great  effort  he  controlled 
the  angry  remark  which  rose  to  his  lips. 

''  I  do  not  desire  to  appear  magnanimous,  but 
I  have  tried  to  act  rightly,"  he  replied,  with  dig- 
nity. *'  I  felt  you  had  every  right  to  object  to  my 
proposal,  and,  still  more,  to  think  that  my 
position  had  given  me  an  undue  advantage  over 
Tiny  ;  I  was  therefore  ready  to  submit  to  a  fair 
test,  and  Sir  Anthony  considered  this  was  one." 

**  I  am  not  bound  to  agree  with  even  Sir 
Anthony  Claypole's  opinion,"  said  Lady  Hare- 
wood,  sententiously,  **  and  I  repeat  again  that, 
keeping  up  by  your  constant  letters  the  feelings 
you  had  already  excited  in  Tiny's  mind  was 
not,  in  my  opinion,  giving  her  a  proper  oppor- 
tunity of  testing  her  feeling  for  you." 

"Without  seeing  my  letters,"  said  Wilfred,  firmly, 
"  I  submit  that  you  are  unable  to  judge  me  fairly." 


144  ^  Rccd  Shaken  with  the  JViud. 

''That  in  itself  is  a  sufficient  proof  of  their 
nature  ;  Tiny  would  have  shown  me  her  cousin's 
letters,"  said  his  aunt,  with  an  emphasis  on  the 
word  cousin,  and  with  a  manner  which,  to 
Wilfred,  was  intolerable. 

**  I  think  not,"  he  replied,  gravely,  **  and  I  am 
not  the  person  who  is  to  be  blamed  for  your 
daughter's  want  of  confidence  in  you." 

**  Anyhow,"  said  Lady  Harewood,  angrily, 
"  I  have  quite  made  up  my  mind.  I  will  never 
consent  to  your  marriage  with  Tiny  ;  and  I  tell 
you,  Wilfred,  plainly,  that  unless  you  are  content 
to  forfeit  your  position  in  my  house,  you  must 
show  some  deference  to  my  wishes.  If  you 
will  promise  me  to  forego  this  idea  with  regard 
to  your  cousin,  I  have  sufficient  reliance  on  your 
honor  to  allow  you  to  visit  here  on  your  old 
footing ;  but  if  you  persist  in  persuading  Tiny 
to  act  in  opposition  to  my  commands,  it  will 
be  my  painful  duty  to  deny  you  the  house  ;  "  and 
opening  the  door  which  led  into  the  drawing-room 
as  she  spoke.  Lady  Harewood  put  an  end  to  any 
further  conversation  by  joining  her  three  daugh- 
ters, Avho  were  talking  to  the  two  Miss  Cun- 
ninghams and  Colonel  Fitzroy  Somerset. 

Wilfred  followed  his  aunt,  and  when  Tiny  saw 
him  she  read  in  the  troubled  expression  of  his 
eyes  something  of  the  contest  which  was  going  on 
in  his  mind. 

Sensitive   to    a   degree    which   would    be    con- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  145 

sidered  absurd  by  mere  men  of  the  world,  the 
sensitive  Wilfred  was  shrinking  from  the  idea 
that,  in  order  to  secure  his  own  happiness,  he 
must  bring  dissension  into  his  aunt's  house,  and 
that  Tiny  must  defy  her  mother's  commands. 
He  did  not  feel,  however,  in  the  least  disposed  to 
relinquish  Tiny,  except  at  her  own  bidding  ;  he 
had  already  sufficiently  sacrificed  himself  and  her 
by  this  weary  separation,  and  his  delicate  sense  of 
honor  was  shocked  by  Lady  Harewood's  manner 
of  evading  what  appeared  to  him  a  tacit  agree- 
ment. 

Feeling  disinclined  to  listen,  in  his  present 
mood,  to  the  "  small  talk"  which  was  being  car- 
ried on  very  vigorously  by  his  cousins,  after 
a  few  friendly  words  with  Madeline,  he  asked 
Tiny  to  come  down  into  the  library,  under  the 
pretext  of  looking  for  a  book  he  had  lent  her ; 
an  excuse  which  was  made  not  to  blind  her 
mother,  but  to  avoid  exciting  in  the  minds  of  her 
visitors  any  suspicion  as  to  the  real  state  of  affairs. 

When  Wilfred  closed  the  library-door,  and 
found  himself  alone  with  Tiny,  in  spite  of  the 
unpleasant  interview  which  had  just  taken  place, 
he  gave  the  answers  he  had  promised  to  her 
letters,  and  did  not  attempt  to  control  the  pas- 
sionate love,  repressed  during  the  weary  weary 
weeks  which  had  elapsed  since  last  he  stood  alone 
in  that  room  with  her. 

"  My  own  darling,"  he    said,  as  he  kissed  the 
7 


146  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wmd. 

head  nestling  against  his  shoulder  ;  'Mf  you  really 
love  me  I  will  never  give  you  up." 

"Has  mamma  consented?"  asked  his  cousin, 
looking  up  eagerly  into  his  face;  "  she  was  so 
unkind  again  last  night  about  it,  and  said  poor 
papa  would  never  have  agreed  to  it.  I  feel  sure 
papa  would,  if  he  had  ever  promised  to  do  so,  and 
mamma  ought  to  be  bound  by  her  word,  now 
I  have  been  to  Rome." 

''That  is  just  what  she  disputes,"  said  Wilfred 
with  just  indignation;  "your  mother  says  that 
she  never  made  any  promise." 

"  But  she  did,"  persisted  Tiny;  "I  am  sure  Sir 
Anthony  will  think  her  very  wicked  for  denying 
it,  for  he  said  if  I  went  to  Rome  for  the  winter, 
mamma  would  be  bound  not  to  oppose  us  when 
I  came  back.     What  did  she  say  to  you,  Wil  ?  " 

Wilfred  repeated  his  whole  conversation  with 
Lady  Harewood ;  and  when  he  came  to  the  clos- 
ing sentence,  Tiny's  indignation  knew  no  bounds. 
She  declared  she  would  not  remain  at  home,  even 
if  Wilfred  agreed  to  desert  her ;  in  less  than  a 
month  she  would  be  of  age,  and  nothing  should 
induce  her  to  live  with  her  mother  after  such  cruel 
conduct. 

Tiny  relieved  her  excitement  by  a  good  fit 
of  crying,  but  Wilfred  soothed  her  by  the  assur- 
ance of  his  love,  and  promised  to  induce  Sir 
Anthony  Claypolc  to  mediate  in  the  matter.  He 
could    not   believe   that   Lady    Harewood   would 


A  Reed  SJiakeJi  with  the  Wind.  147 

refuse  to  listen  to  the  representations  of  the  old 
friend  whose  counsel  she  herself  had  sought,  and 
if  she  did,  Wilfred  resolved  on  taking  the  matter 
into  his  own  hands,  and  securing  his  own  and 
Tiny's  happiness  with  as  little  open  defiance  of 
the  wishes  of  the  family  as  was  consistent  with 
such  a  course  of  action.  Kissing  away  her  tears, 
he  assured  her  that  as  her  happiness  was  bound 
up  in  him,  he  would  allow  nothing  in  the  world  to 
separate  them  for  long. 

*'You  promised  me  that  if  I  really  loved  you, 
nothing  should  part  us,  and  I  claim  your  promise 
now,"  pleaded  Tiny,  looking  up  into  Wilfred's 
face  in  a  way  which  caused  his  heart  to  beat 
quicker  than  usual,  and  sent  his  blood  throbbing 
through  every  vein. 

"  No,  my  darling,"  he  said,  holding  her  still 
closer  to  him  ;  **  I  will  never  sacrifice  such  love  as 
yours  for  any  earthly  consideration.  I  hardly 
know  how  to  tear  myself  away  from  you  now  ; 
but  if  I  don't  go  very  quickly,  I  may  lose  the 
chance  of  seeing  Sir  Anthony  to-day,  and  it  is 
important  to  talk  to  him  before  your  mother  sees 
him,  as  she  doubtless  will  to-morrow." 

The  number  of  times  Wilfred  said  good-by 
would  have  been  very  inadmissible  save  in  an 
affianced  lover,  but  he  had  been  parted  from  Tiny 
for  so  long,  and  had  so  completely  restrained  his 
deep,  passionate  love,  that,  now  he  allowed  it  ex- 
pression, he  found  it  difficult  to  control  it  at  all. 


148  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

Before  he  left,  Tiny  had  taken  from  his  watch- 
chain  the  signet  ring,  with  the  words  "AD  FINEM 
FIDELIS  "  engraved  on  the  seal,  which  had  be- 
longed to  his  mother,  and  which  Wilfred  had  often 
said  should  be  his  first  present  to  his  own  wife. 

As  he  placed  it  on  Tiny's  finger,  she  said  to 
him,  "  Now  you  will  always  think  of  me  as  your 
own  little  wife,  Wil  ;  for  no  horrid  wedding  break- 
fast and  long  white  veil  will  ever  make  me  feel 
more  yours  than  I  do  at  this  very  moment." 

*'  God  bless  you,  my  darling  one,"  said  Wilfred. 
*'  I  hold  you  to  be  my  own  true  wife  in  the  sight 
of  God.  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart.  Tiny,  and 
long  for  the  hour  when  I  shall  call  you  mine  in  the 
eyes  of  the  whole  world." 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

"  Ah  me  !     For  aught  that  ever  I  could  read, 
Could  ever  hear  by  tale  or  history, 
The  coui'se  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth." 

Shakespeare. 

A  HANSOM  CAB  was  standing  at  the  door  of 
Lady  Harewood's  house  as  Wilfred  made  his  exit. 
It  had  just  deposited  Sir  Guy  Fairfax,  who  had 
heard  at  his  club  of  the  Harewoods'  arrival  from 
Rome,  and  had  come  at  once  to  pay  his  respects 
to  them. 

•  Wilfred  jumped  into  the  Hansom,  and  induced 
the  driver  to  proceed  as  fast  as  possible  to  Hyde 
Park  Gardens,  by  the  promise  of  an  addition  to 
his  ordinary  fare.  He  could  not  refrain  from  smil- 
ing when  he  contrasted  Sir  Guy's  probable  haste 
to  the  house  in  which  he  would  see  Tiny,  and  his 
own  despatch  in  leaving  it,  in  order  to  promote 
wishes  which  must  put  such  an  eftectual  barrier  to 
the  hopes  of  his  unfortunate  but  wealthy  rival. 

Sir  Anthony  Claypole  was  dressing  for  dinner 
when  Wilfred  arrived,  but  he  sent  word  that  if  Mr. 
Lane  would  wait  in  the  library,  he  would  be  with 
him  in  a  few  minutes. 


150  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

When  he  heard  the  state  of  the  case,  he  felt 
very  sorry  for  the  young  people,  and  was  much 
perplexed  as  to  the  best  way  of  helping  them  out 
of  their  difficulty.  He  thought  Wilfred  had  every 
right  to  feel  aggrieved  by  Lady  Harewood's  con- 
duct, and  could  not  wonder  at  his  regarding  it  as  a 
breach  of  faith.  He  and  Tiny  had  made  the  sacri- 
fice on  the  understanding  that  Lady  Harewood 
would  waive  her  objections,  if  Tiny  was  proof 
against  the  test  Wilfred  voluntarily  imposed  upon 
her. 

Wilfred  had  rigidly  refused  himself  much  ex- 
pression of  his  attachment  during  her  absence,  and 
had  forced  himself  to  write  cold  and  cousinly 
letters  ;  but  now,  finding  that  Tiny's  heart  was  so 
entirely  his  own,  he  determined  to  oppose  Lady 
Harewood's  refusal  with  the  same  persistency  with 
which  he  had  hitherto  controlled  himself. 

'*  You  must  stay  and  dine  with  us.  Lane  ;  we 
are  quite  alone  this  evening,  and  Lady  Claypole 
will  excuse  your  not  being  in  evening  dress,"  said 
Sir  Anthony,  after  listening  to  Wilfred's  account 
of  his  interview  with  Lady  Harewood.  **  After 
dinner  we  will  talk  over  the  matter  quietly,  and  if 
I  can  see  my  way  to  help  you,  you  may  rely  on 
my  doing  so.  I  think  you  have  behaved  very 
well,"  added  the  kind  old  baronet,  after  a  pause, 
laying  his  hand  on  Wilfred's  shoulder,  "  and,  by 
Jove,  Lane,  your  aunt  does  not  know  a  true  man 
when  she  sees  one  ;  and,  as  to  her  talk  about  good 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  151 

matches,"  added  the  honest  old  baronet  in  a  some- 
what scornful  tone,  "  she  has  never  yet  managed 
to  marry  one  of  her  daughters,  with  all  her  efforts, 
and  who  knows  if  Fairfax  would  really  come  to 
the  point  after  all  ?  " 

Now  this  was  a  view  of  the  case  for  which 
Wilfred  was  quite  unprepared.  He  had  an  idea 
that  every  man  would  come  to  the  point  with 
Tiny,  if  he  had  only  a  chance  of  doing  so.  He 
had  even  serious  misgivings  about  Colonel  Fitzroy 
Somerset,  who  was  as  innocent  of  any  matri- 
monial intentions  towards  Tiny,  or  her  sisters,  as 
any  man  who  had  never  even  seen  them.  But,  in 
this  matter,  Wilfred's  love  blinded  him.  His 
usually  calm  judgment  was  unavailable  in  more 
instances  than  one  where  Tiny  was  concerned. 

The  dinner  passed  off  rather  slowly  and  stiffly 
as  far  as  Wilfred  was  concerned,  for  though  he 
liked  both  Lady  Claypole  and  her  daughter,  he 
was  anxious  to  talk  alone  with  Sir  Anthony  over 
his  future  prospects  and  his  present  position  with 
his  aunt. 

After  the  recent  interview  in  the  library,  Wilfred 
knew  he  could  never  resume  a  mere  cousinly  rela- 
tionship with  Tiny,  and  though  he  felt  extremely 
anxious  to  avoid  an  open  rupture  with  her  mother, 
he  had  firmly  resolved  to  submit  to  no  further 
barrier  being  placed  between  himself  and  that 
little  being  who  had  so  thoroughly  twined  herself 
round  his  heart. 


152  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

If  Lady  Harewood  persisted  in  refusing  her 
consent,  Wilfred  Lane  felt  he  should  defy  her 
authority  before  very  long. 

As  soon  as  the  ladies  had  withdrawn,  Sir 
Anthony  took  Wilfred  into  a  small  room,  known 
by  the  household  as  *' Sir  Anthony's  Study;" 
Lady  Claypole  laughingly  called  it  "  The  Tavern," 
for  Sir  Anthony  used  it  as  a  smoking-room,  and 
the  apparent  bookcase  it  contained,  with  its 
handsomely  bound  backs  of  volumes,  disclosed, 
when  opened  by  the  pressure  of  a  concealed  spring 
at  the  side,  sundry  pipes,  cigar  boxes,  tobacco 
jars,  as  well  as  some  decanters  containing  French 
brandy  and  Scotch  and  Irish  whiskey. 

Not  that  Sir  Anthonv  was  addicted  to  drinking^ 
spirits,  but  he  always  smoked  after  dinner  or  be- 
fore he  went  to  bed,  and  liked  to  have  something 
at  hand,  for  the  use  of  guests  less  abstemious  than 
himself,  without  the  trouble  of  ringing  for  his 
butler. 

Wilfred  only  drank  coffee  when  he  smoked,  but 
it  must  be  confessed  that  he  smoked  a  great  deal. 
He  had  been  obliged  to  do  so  for  his  health  at 
first,  and  had  learnt  to  look  upon  it  as  a  pure 
enjoyment  very  soon.  Besides  this,  he  found  that 
smoking  soothed  him,  and  often  helped  him  to  get 
through  more  work  than  he  fancied  he  should 
have  done  without  his  pipe.  In  his  excited  ner- 
vous state,  that  evening,  he  was  especially  glad  c  i' 

"Clouds  of  the  peace-breathing  Nicotiana," 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  153 

and,  after  an  hour  spent  in  Sir  Anthony's  sanctum, 
he  felt  considerably  calmer,  and  far  better  able  to 
take  a  hopeful  view  of  his  love  affairs,  though  no 
definite  course  of  action  had  suggested  itself  Sir 
Anthony  had  seen  a  great  deal  of  his  young  friend 
during  the  past  winter,  and  had  formed  a  very 
high  opinion  of  his  character  and  intellectual 
powers,  which  he  thought  would  some  day  secure 
Wilfred  Lane  a  very  high  position.  He  felt  more 
than  ever  surprised  at  Lady  Harewood's  persistent 
refusal  in  the  face  of  Tiny's  evident  attachment, 
and  shocked  at  her  disinclination  to  keep  a 
promise  which  once  made  should  have  held  sacred. 
With  Tiny's  money,  and  Wilfred's  present  in- 
come, the  young  people  would  be  far  removed 
from  anything  like  poverty,  and  a  better  match,  in 
a  worldly  sense,  was  still  only  problematical.  Sir 
Anthony  Claypole  really  thought  that  if  Lady 
Harewood  had  any  sense  (and  he  always  had 
strong  doubts  upon  that  point),  she  ought  to  be 
too  thankful  to  secure  such  a  husband  for  a 
daughter  whose  wildness  and  waywardness  might 
very  easily  have  taken  a  different  and  less  satis- 
factory turn. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

**  Ah,  what  will  the  world  say  ?     The  World — therein  lies 
The  question  which,  as  it  is  uttered,  implies 
All  that's  fine  or  that's  feeble  in  thought  or  intent." 

Owen  Meredith. 

Sir  Anthony  Claypole's  interview  with 
Lady  Harewood  was  not  a  pleasant  one.  He 
gave  her  to  understand  m  the  most  courteous 
language  that  he  considered  she  was  not  dealing 
fairly  by  her  nephew.  Of  course  she  inwardly  re- 
sented this  interference,  and  attempted  to  justify 
her  conduct  by  reference  to  the  lamented  Sir 
Henry's  opinions,  whom  she  always  quoted  as  an 
authority  when  she  desired  to  carry  a  point  more 
than  usually  unreasonable — a  habit  which  sug- 
gested to  his  friends  the  very  natural  regret,  that 
she  had  not  shown  more  consideration  to  her  hus- 
band's wishes  when  he  was  able  to  define  them  in 
person. 

Sir  Anthony  Claypole  apologized  for  any  seem- 
ing presumption,  but  requested  Lady  Harewood 
to  remember  that  she  had  called  forth  his  interfer- 
ence, in  the  first  instance,  by  persuading  him  to 
represent  her  feelings  to  Wilfred  Lane.  After 
having  induced  that  young  man  to  propose  what 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wijtd.  155 

appeared  to  him  a  fair  test  of  Tiny's  affection,  he 
felt  himself  bound  to  remind  Lady  Harewood  that 
the  time  .had  arrived  when  she  was  called  upon  to 
fulfil  her  part  of  the  bargain,  namely,  to  waive  her 
objections  to  the  marriage,  and  to  show  the  con- 
sideration which,  in  Sir  Anthony's  opinion,  her 
daughter's  attachment  for  a  man  of  Lane's  high 
character  deserved. 

Lady  Harewood  made  one  excuse  after  another  ; 
first  as  to  the  time  of  her  daughter's  absence  fall- 
ing short  of  the  prescribed  six  months  ;  next  as  to 
Wilfred's  letters,  and  so  on  through  a  host  of  dif- 
ficulties, such  as  Tiny's  age,  her  nephew's  health, 
etc.  ;  but  she  began  to  see  that  matters  were  as- 
suming a  serious  aspect,  and  that  a  persistency  in 
refusing  her  consent  would  be  probably  followed 
by  an  open  rupture  between  herself  and  the  Clay- 
poles.  , 

Sir  Anthony  did  not  even  appear  likely  to  re- 
main neutral,  but  would  probably  support  Wilfred 
and  Tiny  in  their  evident  intention  to  disregard 
Lady  Harewood's  authority.  Encouraged  by 
this,  she  felt  there  was  no  saying  what  Tiny  might 
not  do,  and  it  would  be  quite  impossible  to  guess 
how  the  affair  would  end.  Besides  the  feeling 
that  she  should  not  like  to  be  openly  defied  by 
her  daughter,  the  great  dread  of  "  what  people 
would  say  "  was  always  before  her  eyes. 

The  possibility  of  even  a  runaway  match  sug- 
gested itself ! 


156  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

Lady  Harewood  shuddered  at  the  bare  idea  of 
such  a  scandal  !  She  knew  Tiny  would  not  hesi- 
tate about  it  for  a  moment — in  fact,  such  a  step 
would  have  its  attractions  for  this  lawless  little  in- 
dividual who  was  so  Bohemian  in  her  tastes  ;  and 
although  she  had  more  confidence  in  her  nephew, 
still  there  was  a  determination  about  him  in  their 
last  interview  which  made  Lady  Harewood  uneasy, 
for  Wilfred  had  shown  by  his  manner,  even  more 
plainly  than  by  his  words,  that  he  considered  his 
aunt  had  broken  her  promise,  and  had  acted  very 
badly  towards  both  Tiny  and  himself. 

He  might  not  be  capable  of  running  away  with 
his  cousin  in  a  base  and  underhand  manner  ;  but 
Lady  Harewood  thought  him  quite  headstrong 
enough  to  marry  Tiny  in  defiance  of  her  wishes, 
especially  as  he  declared  that  she  had  failed  to 
keep  her  part  of  the  engagement  which  he  consid- 
ered existed  between  them.  If  Sir  Anthony 
meant  to  desert  her,  and  give  Wilfred  and  Tiny 
his  support  in  this  view  of  the  matter,  it  was  clear 
that  something  must  be  done.  So  Lady  Hare- 
wood resolved  on  a  compromise  ;  and,  knowing 
Wilfred's  repugnance  to  set  aside  a  parent's  au- 
thority, she  thought  she  would  gain  time  by 
pledging  her  consent  in  a  year,  during  which  she 
determined  to  lose  no  opportunity  of  forwarding 
Sir  Guy  Fairfax's  wishes. 

So,  after  reiterating  her  previous  objections,  and 
bemoaning  afresh   over  the   loss  of  the  lamented 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  157 

Sir  Henry's  guidance  at  this  critical  moment,  she 
promised  her  consent  in  a  year's  time  ;  meanwhile 
Wilfred  should  be  allowed  free  access  to  the  house, 
provided  neither  he  nor  Tiny  paraded  their  feel- 
ings. Lady  Harewood  refused  to  acknowledge 
any  "engagement,"  and  stipulated  that  it  should 
never  be  put  forward  as  such. 

It  had  taken  such  a  long  time  to  extract  this 
concession,  that  Sir  Anthony  Claypole,  not  being 
an  ardent  young  lover,  but  the  sober  head  of  a 
well-organized  household,  felt  disposed  to  rest  sat- 
isfied with  it.  But  he  had  no  inclination  again  to 
undertake  the  task  of  representing  Lady  Hare- 
wood's  sentiments  even  to  her  nephew,  and 
thought  it  wiser  under  the  circumstances  to  induce 
her  to  express  them  in  writing. 

So,  before  he  left  Grosvenor  Crescent,  he  se- 
cured a  promise  that  she  would  write  to  Wilfred, 
and  that  the  year  of  probation  should  date  from 
Tiny's  birthday — the  1st  of  June. 

And  then  Sir  Anthony  made  his  way  down  the 
staircase,  resolving  he  would  never  again  under- 
take the  office  which  his  friendship  for  Sir  Henry 
Harewood  and  his  interest  in  Wilfred  Lane  had 
in  this  instance  induced  him  to  accept  ;  and  he 
muttered  to  himself  as  he  walked  to  his  club 
across  the  park,  "  women  are  queer  cattle, "^a 
favorite  reflection  of  his,  but,  happily  for  him,  one 
which  was  rarely  called  forth  in  his  own  home. 

The    writing   of    the    promised   letter   was   ex- 


158  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

tremely  distasteful  to  Lady  Harewood,  yet  she  fell 
there  was  no  escape  from  it.  Therefore  she  re- 
solved to  despatch  it  at  once,  and  then  intended  to 
give  herself  up  to  the  headache  which  this  disre- 
gard of  her  judgment  and  disrespect  for  her  feel- 
ings would  of  course  entail.  So  she  began  accord- 
ingly :— 

'*  My  dear  Wilfred, 

**  You  are  doubtless  aware  of  Sir  Anthony 
Claypole's  intercession  on  your  behalf,  and,  as  he 
was  such  a  respected  friend  of  my  dear  and  la- 
mented husband,  I  feel  anxious  to  listen  to  his 
representations,  although  obliged  to  reserve  my 
own  judgment.  The  responsibility,  which  rests 
alone  upon  me,  is  very  hard  for  any  woman  to 
bear  ;  and  is  rendered  doubly  painful  by  the  head- 
strong disposition  of  Tiny,  which  you  have,  in 
my  opinion,  so  inconsiderately  fostered.  Know- 
ing my  child's  volatile  and  excitable  nature  as  well 
as  I  do,  I  cannot  possibly  consent,  in  such  a 
hurry,  to  your  wishes,  especially  as  I  consider  they 
are  most  ill-judged.  I  do  not  believe  that  such  a 
marriage  would  eventually  promote  j'^//;'  happiness 
any  more  than  hcrs^  and  I  fear  you  will  live  to  re- 
gret your  rashness  if  you  follow  your  own  desires 
in  defiance  of  the  mature  judgment  to  which  it 
would  only  be  right  for  both  of  you  at  once  to  sub- 
mit. 

'*  However,  as  Sir  Anthony  urges  it, — most  re- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  159 

luctantly,  and  fearing  that  I  am  acting  in  a  way 
which  your  uncle  would  not  have  countenanced, 
— I  will  consent  to  your  marriage  in  a  j^ear  from 
this  date,  provided  that  you  and  Tiny,  during  that 
time,  appear  before  the  world  as  cousins,  and 
never,  by  word  or  act,  pretend  that  any  kind  of 
engagement  exists  between  you.  Upon  this  condi- 
tion, I  will  allow  you  to  visit  at  my  house  as  before. 

**  Your  affectionate  aunt, 

''Jane  Harewood." 

Before  this  letter  reached  Wilfred,  he  received  a 
visit  from  Sir  Anthony,  who  warned  him  of  its 
contents,  and  advised  him  to  avoid  a  family  scan- 
dal by  the  acceptance  of  terms  which  appeared  to 
Wilfred  exceedingly  hard.  Lady  Harewood  was, 
in  Sir  Anthony's  opinion,  the  most  impracticable 
woman  he  had  ever  met  in  his  life  ;  and  he  con- 
sidered any  reasonable  concession  a  great  deal 
more  than  could  be  expected  from  her.  Anyhow, 
he  totally  declined  to  undertake  further  negotia- 
tions. Wilfred  Lane  must  either  accept  what  Sir 
Anthony  had,  with  so  much  difficulty,  wrung  from 
her  ladyship  after  three  hours'  talking,  or  else  man- 
age his  affairs  for  himself. 

So,  when  his  aunt's  epistle  came,  Wilfred  felt 
disposed  to  be  thankful  that,  in  the  absence  of 
special  directions  from  the  **  lamented  Sir  Henry," 
Lady   Harewood    had    refrained    from    taking  the 


i6o  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

patriarch  Jacob  for  her  example,  and  commanded 
her  unlucky  nephew  to  wait  seven  years  for  his 
Rachel,  and  then  married  him  to  Charlotte  instead. 

A  year  was  not  so  very  long  after  all,  and  it  was 
not  as  if  he  were  to  be  altogether  shut  out  from 
Tiny's  society.  He  was  to  have  free  access  to 
Grosvenor  Crescent,  and  could  see  her  every  day. 
Then,  too,  he  would  be  able  to  save  more  money, 
and  when  the  time  came  for  the  marriage,  would 
be  better  able  to  make  a  comfortable  home  for  his 
wife. 

After  all.  the  waiting  was  harder  for  him  than 
for  Tiny  ;  a  reflection  which  again  disposed  Wil- 
fred to  a  plan  which  not  only  avoided  a  family 
quarrel,  but  (what  appeared  to  him  a  far  more 
serious  thing)  an  open  and  undutiful  revolt  on 
Tiny's  part  against  her  mother's  authority. 

When  Wilfred  told  Tiny  that  Lady  Harewood 
had  been  with  difficulty  persuaded  to  promise  her 
consent  in  a  year's  time,  and  of  the  condition  she 
imposed  upon  them  meanwhile,  that  young  lady 
was  by  no  means  pleased.  And  as  to  ''their 
friends  not  knowing  they  meant  to  marry  each 
other,"  she  thought  it  "  sheer  nonsense,"  and  held 
up  the  little  ring  on  her  engaged  finger  most  defi- 
antly. 

But  after  a  conversation  with  Lady  Harewood 
matters  were  finally  arranged.  Wilfred  and  Tiny 
agreed  to  act  in  society  scrupulously  as  cousins, 
whatever  they  chose  to   consider  between  them- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wmd.  i6i 

selves  ;  and  if,  on  the  1st  of  June  in  the  following 
year,  they  still  sought  her  consent  to  their  mar- 
riage, Lady  Harewood  promised  to  withdraw  all 
opposition,  and  to  allow  it  to  take  place  without 
further  delay. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

*'  The  stronger  will  always  rule,  say  some,  with  an  air  of  confi- 
dence which  is  like  a  lawyer's  flourish,  forbidding  exceptions,  or  ad- 
ditions. But  what  is  strength  ?  Is  it  blind  wilfulness  that  sees  no 
terror,  no  many-linked  consequences,  no  bruises  or  wounds  of  those 
whose  cords  it  tightens  ?  Is  it  the  narrowness  of  a  brain  that  con- 
ceives no  needs  differing  from  its  own,  and  looks  to  no  results  be- 
yond the  bargains  of  to-day  ;  that  tugs  with  emphasis  for  every  small 
purpose,  and  thinks  it  weakness  to  exercise  the  sublime  power  of  re- 
solved renunciation  ?  There  is  a  sort  of  subjection  which  is  the 
peculiar  heritage  of  largeness  and  of  love  ;  and  strength  is  often  only 
another  name  for  willing  bondage  to  irremediable  weakness." 

George  Eliot. 

From  this  moment  Wilfred  Lane  never  doubted 
Tiny's  love.  The  proofs  she  had  given  of  her  at- 
tachment for  him  during  her  absence  in  Rome,  and 
the  difficulty  he  had  to  persuade  her  to  submit  to 
her  mother's  subsequent  decision,  made  it  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  suspect  the  depth  of  her  affection, 
though  her  mother  and  her  sisters  evidently  enter- 
tained a  very  different  estimate  of  its  value. 

The  year's  waiting  v/as  very  trying  ;  for  Wilfred 
Lane  was  a  man  who  didn't  care  for  the  thinos 
which  make  the  life  of  a  bachelor  very  pleasant  in 
London.      He  hated  the  butterfly  existence  which 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  163 

so  many  are  content  to  lead,  and  longed  for  the 
pure  and  steady  influence  of  a  home  he  could  call 
his  own,  sweetened  and  sanctified  by  the  presence 
of  the  woman  he  could  honor  as  well  as  love. 

Wilfred  had  not  been  without  temptations,  and 
to  some  of  these  he  had  succumbed  ;  but  he  had 
never  revelled  in  wickedness  as  many  of  his  com- 
panions did,  nor  dissipated  his  affections  by  flirta- 
tions with  every  girl  who  came  within  reach  of  his 
attractions.  The  only  strong  feeling  he  had  ever 
had,  and  to  which,  alas  !  he  had  fatally  yielded  him- 
self, was  for  a  young  and  fascinating  woman,  whose 
husband  cruelly  neglected  her  ;  and  into  whose 
society  Wilfred  had  been  most  perilously  thrown 
at  an  age  when  he  was  most  liable  to  fall  a  prey  to 
an  influence  exerted  over  him  without  intermission 
or  remorse. 

But  years  had  passed  since  he  had  broken  this 
spell,  though  the  memory  of  it  often  haunted 
him  still.  Once  he  spoke  of  it  to  Tiny,  for  the 
remembrance  sometimes  made  him  feel  unworthy 
of  the  pure  love  which  she  lavished  upon  him. 
To  his  surprise  Tiny  appeared  to  know  a  great 
deal  about  it ;  for,  although  Wilfred  was  aware 
that  the  tale  had  come  to  Lady  Harewood's  cars, 
he  was  hardly  prepared  to  find  it  had  been  made 
the  subject  of  conversation  with  his  young  cousins. 

Tiny,  however,  dismissed  the  unpleasant  story 
as  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  Wilfred  felt  that  this 
early   attachment    had    not    really   diminished    his 


1 64  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

power  of  loving  this  pure  true-hearted  girl  who 
pledged  herself  to  become  his  wife.  Perhaps 
it  even  made  him  more  capable  of  appreciating 
the  feeling  with  which  he  regarded  his  cousin  ; 
he  loved  her  with  the  same  passionate  intensity, 
but  the  passion  was  sanctified  by  the  complete- 
ness of  the  union  to  which  they  both  aspired. 

Whenever  he  could  leave  his  work,  Wilfred 
made  his  way  to  Grosvenor  Crescent,  and  shared 
with  Tiny  all  the  pleasures  he  allowed  himself; 
and  though  they  studiously  avoided  in  society 
showing  that  a  closer  and  stronger  link  than  mere 
cousinhood  bound  them  to  each  other,  Tiny 
would  often  hold  up  her  hand,  when  she  saw  Wil- 
fred look  at  her,  as  if  to  assure  him  that  the  mean- 
ing of  the  ring  she  wore  was  never  absent  from 
her  mind. 

The  pleasant  readings,  and  the  visits  to  the 
old  haunts  in  search  of  favorite  pictures,  were 
all  resumed,  for  Lady  Harewood  certainly  kept 
to  her  promise  of  never  attempting  to  control 
them. 

"  Society"  troubled  itself  very  little  about  the 
matter ;  people  had  always  been  accustomed  to 
see  Wilfred  Lane  with  the  Harewoods,  and  this 
constant  attendance  on  Tiny  excited  little  or  no 
remark. 

Of  all  the  strange  things  of  which  this  world  is 
full,  the  unwarrantable  power  of  will  seems  the 
strongest.     Wilfred  Lane's  feehng  for  Tiny  could 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  165 

scarcely  be  called  simply  love  ;  it  was  the  moral 
harnessing  of  a  whole  being  to  the  will  of  another. 
As  the  action  of  the  noblest  horse  is  controlled 
by  a  slight  leather,  so  is  often  the  human  heart  by 
the  will,  which  unconsciously  (and  in  that  often 
lies  the  secret  of  its  power)  directs  it  to  the  right 
and  left  at  pleasure ;  and  it  is  often  the  finer 
nature  which  is  subjected  to  this  magnetic  power 
of  will. 

It  was  wonderful  to  see  how  completely  Wilfred 
was  swayed  by  Tiny.  She  was  a  wilful  little 
maiden,  with  such  coaxing  winning  ways,  that  she 
invariably  did  exactly  what  she  liked  with  every 
one  but  her  own  mother. 

For  a  long  time  Wilfred  thought  that  all  this 
would  be  altered  when  Tiny  became  his  wife  ; 
but  this  was  the  license  young  ladies  were  allowed 
to  indulge  in  towards  their  lovers  ;  and  as  Tiny 
in  general  only  required  some  little  sacrifice  of  his 
personal  wishes,  he  was  ready  enough  to  yield  ; 
but  occasionally  a  sense  of  disappointment  flitted 
across  his  mind. 

There  were  also  several  subjects  of  dispute  in 
the  home  circle.  Tiny's  determination  to  absent 
herself  from  the  balls  and  parties,  at  which  she 
knew  Wilfred  would  not  appear,  gave  her  mother 
great  displeasure. 

These  were  the  very  places  to  which  Lady 
Harewood  was  most  anxious  to  take  her,  es- 
pecially when    there  was  the  remotest   chance  of 


1 66  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

meeting  Sir  Guy  Fairfax,  who  was  kept  in  blissful 
ignorance  of  the  understanding,  or,  as  Tiny  would 
have  it,  of  the  engagement  between  herself  and 
her  cousin. 

Lady  Harewood  appealed  to  Wilfred  ;  but  as 
Tiny  made  her  health  a  plea  for  not  going  into 
hot  and  crowded  rooms,  he  declined  to  interfere 
in  the  matter. 

Sir  Guy  Fairfax,  however,  had  other  oppor- 
tunities given  him,  of  which  he  took  every  ad- 
vantage, and  at  last  Wilfred  could  not  refrain  from 
feeling  sorry  for  the  young  man  ;  for  it  appeared 
unfair  of  his  aunt  to  encourage  him  so  openly, 
when  she  knew  the  state  of  Tiny's  mind  precluded 
all  hope  of  the  result  for  which  Fairfax  was 
now  so  earnestly  and  honestly  striving. 

Concealment  and  secrets  of  all  kinds  were 
foreign  to  Wilfred's  nature  ;  knowing  that  both 
he  and  Tiny  regarded  themselves  as  pledged 
to  each  other,  Wilfred  often  felt  he  acted  dishon- 
orably in  even  consenting  to  pass  as  her  mere 
cousin. 

The  season,  at  last,  came  to  an  end.  The  last 
dinner  engagement  had  been  kept ;  the  last  ball 
had  afforded  the  dancers,  for  the  first  time,  suf- 
ficient space  to  enjoy  themselves  ;  the  opera  was 
about  to  commence  its  series  of  "  cheap  nights," 
and  the  West  End  of  London  was  beginning  to 
look  deserted. 

Tiny  and  Wilfred  were   looking   forward   to   a 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  167 

delightful  expedition,  which  had  been  planned 
especially  for  their  benefit  by  the  thoughtful  kind- 
ness of  the  good-natured  Sir  Anthony  Claypole, 
who  had  invited  the  Harewoods  to  go  with  him 
for  a  cruise,  in  his  yacht,  as  soon  as  Wilfred  Lane 
could  get  leave  of  absence  from  the  War  Office. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

**  No,  there's  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life 
As  love's  young  dream," 

Moore's  Irish  Melodies. 

One  Saturday  afternoon  in  August,  Lady 
Harewood,  Madeline,  and  Tiny  met  Wilfred  at  the 
London  Bridge  station,  and  travelled  together  to 
Gravesend. 

Sir  Anthony,  at  first,  proposed  to  start  from 
Southampton,  but  had  ordered  his  yacht  round  to 
Gravesend,  out  of  deference  to  Lady  Harewood, 
who  hated  railway  travelling  as  heartily  as  she 
considered  it  ladylike  to  hate  anything. 

Sir  Anthony  and  Miss  Claypole  awaited  their 
friends'  arrival  on  board  the  Highflyer,  where  they 
,  found  an  excellent  dinner  ready  for  them,  during 
which  Sir  Anthony  advised  his  guests  to  drink 
plenty  of  champagne,  recommending  it  as  the 
best  possible  thing  to  enable  them  to  maintain 
their  reputation  as  good  sailors. 

After  dinner  every  one  came  on  deck,  and  soon 
the  yacht  gave  sundry  signs  of  **  getting  under 
weigh,"  and,  before  long,  she  was  moving  slowly 
down  the  Thames.     Tiny  showed  a  singular  inclin- 


A  Reed  Shaken  ivith  the  Wind.  169 

atlon  to  improve  her  geographical  knowledge,  and 
Wilfred  found  plenty  of  occupation  in  telling  her 
the  names  of  the  different  places  they  passed  on 
each  side  of  the  river.  There  was  a  splendid 
moon  that  night,  and  long  after  Lady  Harewood 
retired,  her  daughters  and  Miss  Claypole  remained 
on  deck  with  the  two  gentlemen,  enjoying  the  calm 
beauty  of  the  evening,  and  rejoicing  in  the  thought 
of  the  freedom  which  would  be  theirs  for  the  next 
four  weeks. 

London,  with  its  close  stifling  atmosphere,  and 
its  still  more  stifling  conventionality,  was  surely,  if 
slowly,  being  left  behind,  and  now  that  Lady 
Harewood — the  only  element  which  reminded  them 
of  that  oppressive  atmosphere — was  safely  shut  up 
in  her  cabin,  a  more  congenial  party  could  hardly 
have  been  found. 

The  time  slipped  away  so  pleasantly,  that  it  was 
nearly  twelve  o'clock  before  even  Madeline  sug- 
gested that  they  ought  to  think  of  following  her 
mother's  example  ;  but  they  were  all  so  loth  to  go 
below,  that  they  agreed  to  cast  lots  as  to  who 
should  repeat  a  favorite  poem,  and  sing  a  song  in 
order  to  gain  a  few  more  moments'  enjoyment  of 
the  exquisite  starlight  night. 

Strangely  enough,  and  to  the  great  satisfaction 
of  the  ladies,  the  lots  fell  upon  the  two  gentle- 
men ;  Sir  Anthony  caused  considerable  merriment 
by  immediately  serenading  London  in  Lord  By- 
ron's words,  **  Isle  of  beauty,  fare  thee  well,"  to  a 
8 


I/O  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

new  and  original  melody  ;  after  which  Wilfred  ap- 
propriately repeated  Heine's  delightful  lines  on  the 
wisdom  of  the  stars  : 

*'  The  flowerets  sweet  are  crushed  by  the  feet, 
Fall  soon,  and  perish  despairing  ; 
One  passes  by,  and  they  must  die, 
The  modest  as  well  as  the  daring. 

The  pearls  all  sleep  in  the  caves  of  the  deep. 

Where  one  finds  them,  despite  wind  and  weather  ; 

A  hole  is  soon  bored,  and  theyVe  strung  on  a  cord. 
And  there  fast  yoked  together. 

The  stars  are  more  wise,  and  keep  in  the  skies, 

And  hold  the  earth  at  a  distance  ; 
They  shed  their  light  in  the  heavens  so  bright, 

In  safe  and  endless  existence." 

With  many  lingering  good-nights  and  regrets 
the  first  happy  evening  of  the  yachting  excursion 
came  to  an  end,  the  deck  was  deserted,  and  the 
friends  separated  for  the  night. 

When  the  morning  dawned,  every  one  on  board 
the  Highflyer  realized  the  fact  that  they  were  *'  at 
sea  ;  "  for  the  wind  had  risen  during  the  night,  and 
the  little  yacht  was  tossing  and  dancing  about  off 
the  South  Foreland  in  anything  but  a  pleasant 
manner,  and  beating  to  windward  in  a  way  enough 
to  discomfort  any  ordinary  landsman.  The  ladies 
were  far  too  sick  and  sorry  to  leave  their  berths  ; 
and  though  Wilfred  just  managed  to  get  on  deck, 
an(4  was  trying  to  put  a  good  face   on  the  matter. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  IVtJid.  171 

any  ardor  for  salt  water,  with  which  he  had 
started,  seemed  permanently  cooled  ;  and  he  was 
forced  to  confess  to  himself  that  he  was  glad  there 
was  no  one  to  witness  his  discomfiture,  or  notice 
the  pertinacity  with  which  he  held  on  to  the  side 
of  the  vessel. 

Even  Sir  Anthony  Claypole's  affection  for  the 
sea  was  of  the  most  subdued  and  sober  descrip- 
tion ;  and  his  position  as  host  made  him  feel 
somewhat  guilty  of  the  miseries  old  Father  Nep- 
tune was  inflicting  on  his  confiding  guests. 

The  weather  continued,  in  nautical  language,  so 
exceedingly  *'foul,"  and  the  ladies  so  hopelessly 
sick,  that  the  Highflyer  put  back  into  the  first  con- 
venient harbor.  An  hour  after  she  was  fairly  an- 
chored in  quiet  waters,  one  pale  face  after  another 
appeared  on  deck,  until  the  whole  party  reassem- 
bled, but  in  very  different  spirits  to  those  in  which 
they  had  separated  the  night  before. 

A  walk  on  shore,  however,  revived  those  who 
felt  strong  enough  to  take  it  ;  and  some  cold 
chicken  and  champagne,  the  first  food  any  of  them 
had  tasted  that  day,  completed  the  cure. 

Sir  Anthony  allowed  his  friends  to  retire  to  rest 
in  the  happy  belief  that  they  should  remain  all 
night  in  the  harbor  ;  but  as  the  wind  had  changed 
at  sunset,  he  determined  to  put  out  to  sea,  for  the 
captain  thought  they  could  manage  to  reach 
Southampton  soon  after  daybreak.  The  whole 
party  slept  so  soundly  that  they  were  unconscious 


1/2  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

of  the  movement  of  the  vessel,  and  to  their  delight 
and  surprise  they  breakfasted  the  next  morning  in 
Southampton  waters. 

Finding  he  had  such  a  sorry  set  of  sailors  for  his 
guests,  and  that  their  notion  of  yachting  was  to 
hasten  on  shore  at  the  first  opportunity,  Sir 
Anthony  Claypole  resolved  to  sacrifice  his  own 
intentions  of  a  more  extended  cruise ;  and,  to 
make  the  month's  holiday  as  enjoyable  as  he 
could,  he  determined  to  hover  between  Cowes, 
Ryde,  and  Freshwater,  and  to  explore  the  interior 
of  the  island,  using  the  yacht  chiefly  as  a  mov- 
able sleeping-place. 

Tiny  was  in  the  wildest  spirits ;  she  and  Wilfred 
delighted  in  the  most  perfect  freedom,  for  there 
was  no  Sir  Guy  Fairfax  or  "  society  "  at  hand  to 
oblige  them  to  keep  forever  on  their  guard  lest 
they  should  break  the  compact  to  which  Lady 
Harewood  compelled  such  a  rigid  outward  adher- 
ence. 

During  the  last  week  of  their  stay  at  Cowes,  the 
Ariel,  General  Hallyburton's  yacht,  anchored  in 
the  night  next  to  the  Highflyer. 

The  General  was  an  old  friend  of  Sir  Anthony's, 
and  shortly  after  breakfast  the  Ariel's  boat  pulled 
alongside,  and  he  came  on  board,  accompanied  by 
his  yachting  companion,  Captain  Foy. 

When  Tiny  saw  Captain  Foy  she  was  so  com- 
pletely taken  by  surprise,  that  Wilfred's  attention 
was  attracted  by  her  nervousness  and  evident  want 


A  Reed  Shakeji  zvith  the  Wind.  173 

of  ease.  Captain  Foy  was,  of  course,  perfectly 
self-possessed  ;  he  knew  that  Lady  Harewood  and 
her  daughters  were  cruising  in  the  Highflyer :  and 
had  quite  recovered  from  the  fears  which  induced 
him  to  avoid  Tiny  immediately  after  the  vehement 
Windsor  flirtation,  and  finding  a  long  sail  with 
General  Hallyburton  somewhat  dull,  he  sighed  for 
the  variety  which  the  proximity  of  the  Harewoods 
seemed  likely  to  afford. 

So,  after  the  first  greetings  were  over,  he 
warmly  seconded  a  proposed  excursion  to  the 
back  of  the  island,  where  they  all  had  mutual 
friends,  on  whose  hospitahty  they  contemplated 
throwing  themselves  for  a  few  hours  during  the 
middle  of  that  day. 

This  was  no  sooner  planned  than  put  into  execu- 
tion, and  the  whole  party  landed  before  eleven 
o'clock  at  the  point  to  which  the  steward  had 
already  been  despatched  to  meet  them  with  car- 
riages for  the  day's  expedition. 

Somehow  or  other  Tiny  took  her  place  in  the 
carriage  containing  Lady  Harewood  and  Sir 
Anthony,  and  Captain  Foy  quickly  availed  himself 
of  the  fourth  seat,  compelling  Wilfred,  to  his  great 
disgust,  to  join  Miss  Claypole,  Madeline,  and 
General  Hallyburton.  Later  on  in  the  day,  as 
they  all  walked  on  the  Downs  at  Freshwater, 
Wilfred  told  Tiny  they  must  manage  better  in  go- 
ing back,  but  strange  to  say  she  did  not  appear 
half  so  eager  about  it ;    and  while  final  arrange- 


174  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

ments  were  being  made  with  the  hostlers  who  had 
taken  charge  of  the  horses,  the  ladies  settled  them- 
selves in  their  different  places  for  the  homeward 
drive,  and  returned  as  they  came,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Sir  Anthony  and  his  daughter,  who 
changed  places  at  the  last  moment,  to  enable  the 
former  to  drive  back  in  the  same  carriage  with 
General  Hallyburton.  Before  the  friends  parted, 
Sir  Anthoiiy  promised,  if  the  wind  proved  fair,  to 
bring  his  guests  the  following  day  on  board  the 
Ariel,  for  a  sail  as  far  as  the  Needles. 

The  day's  expedition  certainly  did  not  seem  so 
successful  to  Wilfred  Lane  as  it  promised  to  be 
when  they  all  left  the  yacht  that  morning  ;  and 
Tiny  apparently  was  indulging  in  the  same  reflec- 
tion. Anyhow  she  was  clearly  out  of  spirits,  and 
unusually  thoughtful  and  silent. 

After  dinner  every  one  came  on  deck  ;  the 
evening  was  peculiarly  still  and  lovely,  and  the 
new  moon  exquisitely  beautiful. 

Talking  over  the  events  of  the  day.  Lady  Hare- 
wood  expressed  her  astonishment  at  finding 
Captain  Foy  had  never  been  engaged  to  Miss 
Peel,  notwithstanding  the  rumors  they  had  heard  to 
that  effect,  during  the  season  previous  to  their  visit 
to  Rome.  Tiny's  face  flushed  as  her  mother  spoke  ; 
rising  from  her  seat,  she  complained  of  being  chilly, 
and  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  deck. 

In  a  few  minutes  Wilfred  joined  her,  but  neither 
of  them  seemed  inclined  to  talk. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  VVtJid.  175 

Tiny  had  already  begun  to  be  conscious  of  a 
return  of  the  old  Windsor  feeling,  and,  in  spite  of 
herself,  she  was  engrossed  in  wondering  over  the 
state  of  Captain  Foy's  mind.  Perhaps,  after  all, 
thought  Tiny,  he  had  mistaken  the  way  in  which 
she  regarded  him  ;  and  his  apparent  sentiment  for 
Miss  Peel  was  a  mere  screen  for  the  disappoint- 
ment he  experienced  when  he  thought  he  had 
failed  to  reach  her  heart.  She  recalled  many  little 
speeches  she  had  made,  which  might  easily  have 
been  misinterpreted  ;  and  ended  by  thinking  that, 
but  for  these.  Captain  Foy  would  long  ago  have 
declared  his  love.  Of  course  he  was  too  proud 
and  sensitive  to  risk  a  proposal,  when  she  always 
made  a  point  of  turning  his  attempts  at  tenderness 
into  ridicule,  or  else  appeared  annoyed  and 
offended  by  the  very  words  she  longed  to  hear 
from  his  lips  ! 

Wilfred  and  Tiny  had  ceased  to  pace  the  deck, 
and  were  now  leaning  over  the  side  of  the  yacht. 
The  foolish  little  maiden  had  just  arrived  at  the 
conclusion  that  she  had  given  Captain  Foy  a  life- 
long sorrow  as  well  as  herself,  and  that  she  was 
alone  to  blame  for  their  mutual  disappointment, 
when  Wilfred  took  her  hand  and  pointed  to  the 
beautiful  reflection  of  the  moon,  and  the  sparkling 
ripples  of  the  water. 

For  the  first  time  Tiny  impatiently  repulsed  his 
affection. 

"  I  am  so  tired  to-night,"  she  said,  somewhat 


176  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wi7td. 

peevishly,  drawing  away  her  hand.  *'  I  wish  you 
would  go  and  talk  to  the  others  ;  my  head  aches, 
and  I  want  to  be  quiet." 

Wilfred  left  her,  and,  asking  leave  to  light  his 
cigar,  sat  down  by  Madeline. 

For  some  time  he  smoked  in  silence,  wondering 
over  Tiny's  pale  face  and  irritable  manner.  He 
felt  certain  something  had  moved  her  deeply,  and 
yet  he  could  not  imagine  what  it  was,  for  he 
never  dreamt  that  day  of  connecting  Tiny's 
change  of  mood  with  Captain  Foy's  presence  or 
absence. 

Very  shortly  there  was  a  general  move,  and 
Tiny,  instead  of  staying  behind  as  she  was  accus- 
tomed to  do,  for  a  few  minutes'  talk  with  Wilfred, 
went  below  with  the  others,  only  wishing  him  and 
Sir  Anthony,  who  was  also  smoking,  a  careless 
good-night  as  she  passed  them. 

The  next  day's  sail  opened  Wilfred's  eyes  to  one 
fact.  He  could  not  tell  what  had  gone  before,  but 
certainly,  at  the  present  moment.  Captain  Foy 
paid  Tiny  very  marked  attention,  and  she  betrayed 
a  greater  interest  in  him  than  Wilfred  thought  her 
relation  with  himself  and  acquaintance  with  Foy 
at  all  warranted. 

This  went  on  for  days  ;  for  if  General  Hallybur- 
ton  and  his  guests  were  not  on  board  the  High- 
flyer, Sir  Anthony  and  his  party  sailed  in  the 
Ariel,  or  they  made  some  inland  excursion  to- 
gether.    All    this    time  Tiny    successfully   eluded 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  lyj 

being  alone  with  Wilfred  without  appearing  to  do 
so  intentionally. 

One  bright  morning,  when  Wilfred  came  on 
deck,  he  could  not  suppress  a  feeling  of  satisfaction 
on  discovering  that  the  Ariel  had  forsaken  her 
moorings.  He  knew  by  this  that  General  Hally- 
burton  had  carried  his  threat  into  execution,  and 
sailed  at  daybreak  for  Cherbourg. 

Before  Foy  could  return  the  Highflyer  w^ould 
have  left  for  Dartmouth,  according  to  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  previous  night.  For  once  Wilfred 
blessed  Lady  Harewood  for  carrying  her  point 
about  seeing  the  Devonshire  coast,  which  she  had 
done  rather  in  opposition  to  the  rest  of  the  party, 
who  were  evidently  in  favor  of  still  coasting  round 
the  Isle  of  Wight. 

Tiny's  apparent  indifference  when  Sir  Anthony 
announced  at  breakfast  the  departure  of  his  friends 
somewhat  re-assured  Wilfred,  who  straightway 
accused  himself  of  mean  and  jealous  feelings, 
unworthy  of  himself  and  of  his  love  and  devotion 
for  Tiny. 

It  had  been  agreed  the  day  before  that  the  two 
yachts  should  sail  together  to  Ryde,  unless  the 
Cherbourg  plan  came  off,  which  Captain  Foy 
heartily  hoped  it  would  not.  So  the  Highflyer 
was  already  under  weigh  before  breakfast  was  fin- 
ished, and  a  fair  wind  soon  brought  her  within  a 
convenient  landing  distance  from  the  pier. 

Just  as  they  were  preparing  to  leave  the  yacht, 

8* 


178  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

Tiny  excused  herself  from  going  on  shore,  on  the 
plea  of  a  headache,  and  when  Wilfred  offered  to 
stay  with  her,  she  for  once  heartily  echoed  her 
mother's  objection,  and  declined  his  proposal  on 
the  ground  that  she  would  be  more  likely  to  get 
better  if  left  quite  alone. 

So  they  started  without  her  ;  but  to  Wilfred  the 
day  was  thoroughly  spoilt.  He  had  looked  for- 
ward to  it  so  eagerly,  directly  he  found  the  Ariel 
had  set  sail  for  Cherbourg,  hoping  that  the  happy 
freedom  of  the  first  fortnight  would  return. 

There  were  atmospheric  clouds,  too,  about, 
which  threatened  to  damp  their  pleasure  after  an- 
other fashion,  and  the  party  returned  to  the  yacht 
much  sooner  than  they  had  intended. 

When  Wilfred  saw  Tiny  he  felt  certain  that  she 
had  been  crying. 

At  dinner,  however,  she  seemed  in  her  usual 
spirits,  and  lingered  on  deck  as  before,  when  her 
mother  and  Madeline  retired. 

Sir  Anthony  and  his  daughter  were  talking  over 
some  second  post  letters  which  had  only  just  been 
brought  on  board,  and  Wilfred  took  this  opportu- 
nity to  ask  Tiny  suddenly,  as  he  drew  her  hand 
within  his  arm  for  a  walk  up  and  down  the  deck, 
what  had  made  her  look  so  unhappy  ? 

The  question  seemed  to  startle  her  ;  acting  on 
the  impulse  of  the  moment,  as  she  generally  did, 
Tiny  told  Wilfred  the  whole  story  about  Captain 
Foy  ;  confided  to  him  her  feelings  during  the  win- 


A  Reed  SJiaken  witJi  the  Wind.  179 

ter  spent  at  Windsor,  and  her  subsequent  doubts 
and  disappointment. 

She  was  so  perfectly  engrossed  with  her  own 
thoughts  that  she  was  utterly  unconscious  of  the 
effect  of  her  disclosure  upon  her  cousin.  But 
when  Wilfred  asked  her  if  Captain  Foy  had  now 
told  her  that  he  loved  her,  his  voice  was  so  unlike 
his  own  that  Tiny  looked  up  in  his  face,  and  the 
pain  she  read  in  it  awoke  within  her  a  sudden 
sense  of  the  sorrow  she  had  inflicted  upon  him. 

*'  Oh,  Wil,"  she  cried,  "  I  know  I  have  done 
what  is  wrong.  I  ought  not  to  have  concealed 
this  from  you  ;  many  many  times  I  have  longed  to 
tell  you,  but  the  words  have  died  on  my  lips.  I 
could  not  bear  that  any  one  should  know  about  it. 
And  there  is  nothing  to  know,"  she  added,  pas- 
sionately,  **  for  he  has  never  said  that  he  loved 


me." 


**  There  is  something  for  me  to  know,  Tiny,"  he 
replied,  his  voice  trembling  with  suppressed  emo- 
tion. ''If  you  have  such  a  feeling  for  this  man, 
how  can  you  say  you  love  me  ?  " 

**  I  do  love  you,  Wilfred  ;  but  it  is  not  exactly 
the  same.  I  never  could  care  for  two  people  in 
the  same  way.  Don't  blame  me,"  she  said,  cling- 
ing with  both  hands  round  his  arm,  and  look- 
ing up  eagerly  into  his  eyes,  ''  don't  blame  me  for 
not  having  told  you.  I  thought  I  never  should 
see  him  any  more,  and  that  he  would  marry  Miss 
Peel.     And  I  have  felt  so  happy  in  loving  you — " 


i8o  A  Reed  SJiaken  with  the  Wind. 

She  paused  as  if  she  had  not  finished  her  sen- 
tence. 

"  Until  you  saw  him  again,"  said  Wilfred, 
calmly. 

Tiny  burst  into  tears. 

They  were  standing  on  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
looking  towards  Ryde ;  Sir  Anthony  and  his 
daughter  had  already  gone  below,  and  they  had 
the  whole  deck  to  themselves. 

Presently  Tiny  looked  up. 

''You  are  not  angry  with  me,  Wil,  darling?  I 
can't  help  it ;  you  see  it  was  before  I  cared  for  you. 
I  did  not  know  how  weak  I  was  till  I  saw  him 
again,  but  it  will  be  all  right  soon,"  she  added,  in 
a  firmer  tone. 

"  It  can't  be  all  right,  Tiny,  if  you  feel  this  now. 
But,  thank  God,"  he  exclaimed,  with  great  effort 
controlling  his  own  feeling,  "  it  has  come  in  time. 
You  are  still  free.  Your  mother  was  right,  after 
all,"  he  added,  with  a  sigh. 

"But  you  will  not  leave  me,  Wil?  He  has 
never  said  he  loved  me,  and  I  don't  believe  he 
does.  Don't  leave  me,  Wilfred,"  she  continued 
vehemently,  "now  that  I  feel  as  if  I  wanted  you 
more  than  ever." 

Before  Wilfred  could  reply  he  became  conscious 
of  the  presence  of  a  third  person.  Madeline  came 
with  a  message  from  her  mother,  who  considered 
it  unwise  for  Tiny  to  stay  so  late  on  deck  after  her 
indisposition  ;  and  whilst  slie  waited  for  her  sister, 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  i8i 

Tiny  had  only  just  time  to  whisper,  "  Don't  say  a 
word  till  I  speak  to  you  to-morrow,  Wil,  darling," 
and,  with  the  most  affectionate  look  she  had  given 
him  since  the  Ariel  came  into  Cowes,  she  disap- 
peared down  the  cabin  stairs. 

Wilfred  Lane  felt  bewildered.  He  had  never 
thought  it  possible  that  Tiny  would  prove  faithless 
to  him,  nor  imagined  her  capable  of  such  a  con- 
cealment ;  nor  had  he  ever  doubted  that  she  had 
given  him  her  first  and  best  affection.  It  was  a 
new  revelation,  and  one  which  scattered  all  his 
previous  belief  in  Tiny's  disposition  and  character. 

He  paced  up  and  down  the  deck  hour  after  hour, 
thinking  over  what  he  had  heard  that  night ; 
scarcely  able  to  realize  that  Tiny  had  ever  cared  foi 
any  one  but  himself.  When  he  recalled  her  ten- 
derness to  him,  and  the  letters  she  had  written 
from  Rome,  it  was  impossible  to  believe  she  had 
ever  loved  another. 

Since  the  day  Tiny  had  worn  his  mother's  ring 
Wilfred  had  regarded  their  union  as  indissoluble, 
in  spite  of  Lady  Harewood's  opposition.  Tiny's 
unexpected  confession  respecting  a  love  which  was 
not  the  growth  of  to-day,  but  which  had  existed 
even  before  she  consented  to  be  his  wife,  and  which 
it  seemed  to  him  she  had  strangely  nourished  ever 
since,  absolutely  stunned  him. 

His  thoughts  beyond  this  took  no  definite  shape  ; 
he  never  attempted  to  consider  how  to  act  with  re- 
gard to  their  present  relative  position,  or  Captain 


1 82  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

Foy's  ultimate  intentions  towards  Tiny.  He  had 
to  grow  familiar  with  one  great  fact,  which  stood 
out  clear  at  last ;  his  belief  in  Tiny's  first  love  was 
a  delusion.  She  had  deceived  him,  and  he  had 
deceived  himself. 

He  could  think  no  more  ;  but  as  he  rested  his 
head  against  his  hands,  which  were  clasped  round 
a  rope  above  him,  the  pain  of  parting  at  Folke- 
stone, and  the  desolateness  of  the  winter  which  fol- 
lowed while  Tiny  was  in  Rome,  seemed  nothing  to 
his  present  misery. 

Presently  he  was  startled  by  a  hand  laid  on  his 
shoulder,  and,  turning  round,  he  saw  Sir  Anthony, 
who  exclaimed,-  ""  Why,  Lane,  whatever  are  you 
doing  ?  It  is  just  five  o'clock,  and  you  have  never 
been  to  roost." 

Wilfred  stammered  out  as  an  excuse  that  he  had 
been  restless ;  that,  as  he  shared  Sir  Anthony's 
cabin,  he  feared  to  disturb  him,  and  therefore  had 
remained  on  deck. 

*' My  head  aches,  too,"  he  added,  "and  I 
thought  the  cool  air  would  do  me  good,  but  I'll  go 
and  turn  in  now,  and  perhaps  I  shall  sleep  it  off." 
And  Wilfred  moved  away,  glad  to  escape  any  fur- 
ther questioning. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

**  Alas  !  how  easily  things  go  wrong, 
A  sigh  too  much — or  a  kiss  too  long — 
And  there  comes  a  shower  and  a  driving  rain, 
And  life  is  never  the  same  again. 

Alas  !  how  hardly  things  go  right, 
'Tis  hard  to  watch  through  the  summer  night, 
For  the  kiss  will  come,  and  the  sigh  will  stay, 
And  the  summer  night  is  a  winter  day." 

George  Macdonald. 

"  People  are  always  talking  of  perseverance,  courage,  and  forti- 
tude ;  but  patience  is  the  finest  and  worthiest  part  of  fortitude — and 
the  rarest  too, ' ' 

John  Ruskin. 

At  breakfast  Wilfred's  countenance  bore  but 
little  trace  of  the  suffering  he  had  gone  through 
during  the  night.  Had  any  one  noticed  him  par- 
ticularly, they  would  have  remarked  he  was  more 
silent  than  usual ;  but  as  he  was  never  a  great 
talker,  his  silence  was  unobserved  on  this  occasion. 

Tiny,  however,  was  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and 
surprised  everybody  by  her  outbursts  of  fun  and 
merriment.  It  seemed  impossible  that  beneath 
this  joyous  exterior  she   could   be   enduring  much 


1 84  A  Reed  Shaken  zvith  the  Wind. 

mental  pain,  and  Wilfred  began  to  think  he  had 
exaggerated  the  matter  in  his  own  mind.  But 
then  again  came  the  recollection  that  for  all  these 
months  Tiny,  while  professing  to  treat  him  with 
entire  frankness,  had  concealed  from  him  the  very 
fact  that  she  had  ever  cared  for  any  man  except 
himself,  and  Wilfred  was  exceedingly  troubled  as 
he  thought  of  this. 

By  eleven  o'clock  the  yacht  was  under  weigh, 
and  a  smart  steady  wind  bore  her  on  towards  Port- 
land. As  far  as  outward  circumstances  went,  this 
was  one  of  the  pleasantest  sails  they  had  yet  made, 
but  everything  seemed  changed  to  Wilfred.  All 
the  joy  and  brightness  he  had  known  during  the 
last  few  weeks  was  gone.  There  was  a  dull  leaden 
pain  in  his  heart,  and  a  dark  though  undefined 
dread  overclouded  the  future  which  but  yesterday 
seemed  charged  with  happiness. 

The  first  moment  that  he  was  alone  with  Tiny 
she  slipped  her  hand  in  his,  and  said  in  her  gent- 
lest voice,  "  Wilfred,  I  am  so  sorry  I  made  you 
unhappy  last  night ;  I  should  have  told  you  ages 
ago,  but  for  this  ;  and  now  I  have  spoken,  I  dare 
say  you  have  lost  all  confidence  in  me  ?  " 

"  No,  Tiny  ;  but  you  have  surprised  me  so 
much  that  I  don't  know  what  to  think,  except  that 
you  must  be  free,  after  what  you  have  told  me.  I 
don't  want  to  blame  you,  darling,  but  you  never 
should  have  hidden  it  from  me." 

**  I  was  afraid   to   tell  you,    Wilfred,  because  I 


A  Reed  Shake7i  with  the  Wind.  185 

thought  how  it  would  be.  You  don't  love  me  any 
longer,  I  see,"  and  Tiny  looked  into  his  eyes  with 
an  eager  longing  gaze. 

**  Yes,  Tiny,  I  do  love  you — it  would  seem  as 
easy  to  root  out  my  heart  itself  as  to  root  out  the 
love  it  holds  for  you.  I  should  not  feel  the  misery 
I  do,  in  the  thought  that  I  have  not  the  power  to 
make  you  happy,  if  I  did  not  love  you." 

"  But  you  do  make  me  happy,"  she  answered 
impulsively.  VI  have  been  happier  and  better 
ever  since  you  loved  me,  and  till  this  week  I  never 
thought  that  other  feeling  would  come  back." 

"  Then  your  feeling  for  this  man  has  come  back 
to  you  ?  "  asked  Wilfred,  in  a  tone  which  betrayed 
his  suffering. 

*'  Not  exactly  come  back  to  me,"  she  answered 
thoughtfully.  "  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but  it 
seems  impossible  to  shake  off  altogether  the  re- 
membrance of  that  winter  at  Windsor." 

Tiny's  hand  with  Wilfred's  ring  on  it  was  in  his 
own  as  she  spoke  ;  as  she  finished  her  sentence, 
he  said  quietly,  "  Let  me  put  this  back  on  my 
chain.  Tiny  ;  you  must  indeed  be  free  ;  there 
could  be  no  happiness  for  either  of  us  in  this  now. 
We  have  made  a  mistake,  but  it  is  not  yet  too  late 
for  you." 

"  Oh,  Wil  ;  how  can  you  be  so  cruel?  I  wish 
I  had  never  told  you.  I  do  not  seem  able  to 
make  you  understand  me.  It  is  not  that  I  love 
Captain  Foy;  it  was  only  the  remembrance  of  the 


1 86  A  Reed  Shake^i  with  the  Wifid. 

past  which  upset  me  while  he  was  here.  You 
know  what  a  strange  mind  I  have,  and  sometimes 
I  think  if  I  could  only  tell  whether  he  loved  me  or 
not  I  should  feel  quite  content ;  but  now  I  cannot 
help  dwelling  on  it,  and  all  the  little  things  he  used 
to  say.  It  was  very  wicked  of  him,"  said  Tiny, 
pensively,  **  to  seem  so  miserable  whenever  I  would 
not  walk  or  ride  with  him,  if  he  did  not  really  care 
for  me.     What  did  he  mean  by  it,  Wilfred  ?  " 

''  How  can  I  tell  you.  Tiny  ?  "  he  answered,  be- 
traying for  the  first  time  an  impatience  it  was  hard 
to  restrain  as  his  cousin's  selfishness  became  too 
palpable  for  even  his  deep  love  to  remain  blind  to 
it  any  longer  ;  "I  know  so  little  of  this  man,  and 
love  you  so  much,  that  I  am  no  judge.  I  can 
scarcely  even  tell  what  is  best  for  us  ;  but  you 
must  be  quite  free.  Give  me  back  the  ring,  Tiny  ; 
now  I  know  of  your  feeling  for  Captain  Foy  1  dare 
not — will  not  claim  your  sweet  promise  to  be  my 
wife." 

"That  is  just  what  I  feared" — and  Tiny  grew 
quite  pale  and  shook  with  her  little  piteous  sob- 
bing— "  and  that  is  why  I  never  told  you  before  ; 
it  is  cruel,  Wilfred,  of  you  to  forsake  me  now,  just 
when  I  want  you  more  than  ever." 

"  I  don't  forsake  you,  child,"  cried  Wilfred  ; 
"  God  knows  I  want  your  happiness  before  my 
own  !  I  love  you  well  enough  to  wish  to  see  you 
happy  in  your  own  way  ;  but  I  never  thought  that 
happiness  would  be  apart  from  mine." 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  187 

"■  But  it  is  not,  Wil  ;  I  never  could  do  without 
you  ;  have  patience  with  me,"  pleaded  Tiny.  "  I 
don't  know  what  brought  up  this  old  feeling,  and 
I  was  very  foolish  to  tell  you  of  it  last  night.  Oh, 
Wil,  it  seems  so  cruel  to  think  you  will  love  me 
less  now.  I  will  not  give  you  back  my  ring,"  she 
added  with  a  vehemence  which  startled  Wilfred  ; 
"  I  could  not  do  without  you  !  " 

Neither  of  them  spoke  for  a  few  minutes,  until 
Tiny  said  in  a  quiet  tone,  ''  I  don't  think,  Wilfred, 
men  ever  do  understand  women.  I  thought  you 
would  ;  but  you  don't  seem  in  the  least  to  know 
what  I  really  feel." 

"  Tiny,  you  cannot  love  me  and  Captain  Foy  ; 
the  thing  is  impossible.  One  of  us  must  give 
place  to  the  other." 

"  But  he  has  never  said  he  loved  me,"  persisted 
Tiny. 

"  But  yon  love  him,"  replied  Wilfred,  as  if  the 
very  words  scorched  him. 

**  No,  I  don't,"  Tiny  answered,  as  if  she  had 
that  very  moment  arrived  at  that  conclusion.  "  I 
have  a  strange  interest  in  him  ;  whatever  happens 
I  shall  have  that  all  my  life.  He  was  the  first  to 
awaken  in  me  any  real  feeling,  and  that  is  what 
you,  as  a  man,  cannot  understand.  No  girl  can 
ever  be  quite  the  same  again." 

''  You  ought  to  have  told  me  of  this  before, 
Tiny,  and  not  have  allowed  me  to  believe  that 
my    love    first    called    forth    yours.       And    you 


1 88  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

seemed   ready  enough   to  give    it  when    I   asked 
it  from  you." 

**  If  you  had  come  to  me  as  a  stranger,  Wil,  it 
would  have  been  very  different ;  but  my  affec- 
tion for  you  as  a  cousin  led  me  on  step  by  step, 
until  unconsciously  you  crept  into  my  heart. 
You  came  to  me  as  the  best  and  highest  influence 
I  ever  had  in  my  life.  Don't  forsake  me,  Wil ; 
I  think  I  should  grow  wicked  if  you  left  me  now. 
Why  should  you  not  love  me  all  the  same  ?  I 
am  the  same  as  I  was  yesterday  ;  the  only  differ- 
ence is  that  you  know  more  of  me  than  you  did. 
It  ought  to  show  you,"  said  Tiny,  in  a  pleading 
voice,  and  looking  up  at  him  with  her  old  passion- 
ate expression,  *'how  much  I  love  you  and  have 
trusted  you." 

Wilfred  Lane  did  not  quite  see  this,  but  he  felt 
the  power  of  Tiny's  fascination.  Perhaps  she 
was  right,  and  that  he  could  not  enter  into  a  girl's 
inmost  heart.  It  did  not  seem,  however,  as  if 
Captain  Foy  loved  Tiny ;  it  was  more  than 
probable  that  he  had  only  trifled  with  her  after 
the  fashion  of  men  of  his  kind. 

And  then,  too,  Tiny  evidently  depended  on  him 
for  support ;  she  had  even  pleaded  for  his  love  ; 
how  could  he  be  so  base  and  cruel  as  to  desert  her 
in  such  need  ?  Had  everything  in  his  own  life 
been  so  clear  and  blameless  that  he  should  claim 
as  his  lawful  due  the  first  undivided  affection 
of  this   girl,  and   because  he   found  that  another 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  189 

man  had  once  had  power  to  move  her,  was  it 
generous  of  him  to  say  '*  I  also  will  give  you 
up  "  ?  It  would  be  quite  another  thing  if  Captain 
Foy  had  claimed  the  love  he  had  awakened  ; 
then  Wilfred's  path  would  have  been  very  clear  ; 
he  must  have  accepted  his  own  misery  at  once, 
and  perhaps  in  time  his  heart  might  have  ached 
less  when  he  remembered  that  each  pang  it  suf- 
fered secured  his  darling's  happiness. 

To  leave  her  now,  was  only  to  make  her 
position  more  difficult.  If  Captain  Foy  really 
loved  her,  he  would  return  and  say  so,  for,  as  he 
had  no  idea  of  Tiny's  engagement, — there  was 
nothing  to  prevent  his  coming  forward. 

But  Wilfred  could  not  help  thinking  Captain 
Foy  never  intended  to  come  forward.  He  there- 
fore resolved  to  do  as  Tiny  asked  him  ;  she  might 
keep  his  ring,  but  he  would  consider  her  free. 

He  would  do  still  more.  As  far  as  he  could 
compass  it,  she  should  have  fair  play.  His  love 
for  Tiny  was  deep  enough  to  enable  him  to  sac- 
rifice himself. 

After  a  day  at  Portland,  the  Highflyer  cruised 
round  the  Devonshire  coast  for  a  week.  The 
morning  after  she  reached  Plymouth,  Sir  Anthony 
received  a  letter  from  his  wife,  telling  him  that  she 
was  glad  his  month's  yachting  had  nearly  come  to 
an  end,  for  she  had  been  very  sick,  and  during 
the    last    few  days    had    been    obliged    to    call    in 


190  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

the  family  physician.  As  Sir  Anthony  believed 
that  more  people  "died  of  the  doctor"  than 
"  by  the  visitation  of  God,"  this  information 
naturally  made  him  anxious  ;  so  it  was  settled 
that  Margaret  should  go  to  London  by  train,  and 
rejoin  her  mother  at  once,  while  her  father  returned 
with  the  rest  of  the  party,  via  Southampton,  for 
which  place  they  set  sail  the  same  evening. 

It  was  naturally  a  matter  of  constant  pain  to 
Wilfred  to  see  how  completely  all  Tiny's  thoughts 
were  taken  up  in  the  feeling  which  she  had 
expended  on  one  who  was  in  his  opinion  utterly 
unworthy  of  them.  And  sometimes  it  was  almost 
more  than  he  could  bear  to  listen  to  her  continual 
perplexities  about  the  meaning  of  some  trivial 
circumstance,  which  had  been  treasured  up  in 
her  mind  as  something  of  great  consequence — for, 
now  that  the  ice  was  broken.  Tiny  did  not  scruple 
to  confide  to  Wilfred,  with  a  frankness  which 
utterly  amazed  him,  every  little  incident  which 
happened  that  winter,  including  even  the  secret 
meetings  in  the  shrubberies,  and  Captain  Foy's 
parting  kiss. 

Few  men  would  have  borne  this  with  such 
perfect  self-command ;  but  Wilfred  seldom  be- 
trayed to  Tiny  the  pain  she  inflicted  upon  him. 
His  love  for  her  was  of  too  deep  and  unselfish 
a  nature  to  admit  of  his  shrinking  from  any 
suffering  which  might  give  his  darling  even  an 
instant's  relief. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  191 

Sometimes  Wilfred  Lane  thought  that  the  very 
repression  of  Tiny's  past  feehng  had  tended  to 
foster  it ;  at  any  rate  he  hoped  that  the  complete 
confidence  which  now  existed  between  them 
would  tend  to  increase  her  trust  in  him.  He 
could  not  doubt  that  she  had  by  degrees  given 
him  a  far  stronger  affection  than  mere  cousinship 
warranted,  and  he  earnestly  prayed  for  that  day 
to  come  when  Tiny's  little  mind  would  cease 
to  be  disquieted  at  all  about  this  Captain  Foy. 
Her  perfect  openness  with  him  certainly  seemed 
a  rivet  in  the  chain  which  bound  them  together, 
and,  resting  content  with  this  reflection,  Wilfred 
shut  his  eyes  to  any  future  sorrow  he  might  be 
heaping  up  for  himself. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

'*  Places  are  too  much 
Or  else  too  little,  for  immortal  man  ; 
Too  little,  when  love's  May  o'ergrows  the  ground, 
Too  much,  when  that  luxuriant  robe  of  green 
Is  rustling  to  our  ankles  in  dead  leaves. 
'Tis  only  good  to  be  or  here  or  there. 
Because  we  had  a  dream  on  such  a  stone, 
Or  this  or  that, — but,  once  being  wholly  waked 
And  come  back  to  the  stone  without  the  dream. 
We  trip  upon't,  alas,  and  hurt  ourselves ; 
Or  else  it  falls  on  us  and  grinds  us  flat. 
The  heaviest  gravestone  on  this  burying  earth." 

Mrs.  Barrett  Browning. 

Week  after  week  flew  by,  but  Captain  Foy 
never  made  his  appearance  in  Grosvenor  Crescent. 
The  Harewoods  knew  he  had  not  returned  in  the 
Ariel  to  Cowes,  for  they  had  seen  General  Hally- 
burton  again,  at  the  Claypoles',  who  told  them 
that  his  guest  had  deserted  him  at  Cherbourg, 
having  met  a  friend  who  persuaded  him  to  join  in 
a  walking  tour  through  Normandy. 

Lady  Claypole  had  quite  recovered  from  her 
indisposition,  and  all  the  Harewoods  and  Wilfred 
Lane  were  dining  at  Hyde  Park  Gardens  in  order 
to  talk  over  the  **  cruise  in  the  Highflyer,"  when 


A  Reed  Shaken  zvith  the  Wind.  193 

General  Hallyburton  happened  to  look  in  for  a 
quiet  smoke  with  his  friend  in  "  the  tavern,"  and 
was  at  once  brought  upstairs  into  the  drawing- 
room,  as  a  person  immediately  concerned  with  the 
cruise  in  question.  So  he  contributed  his  share 
to  the  evening's  entertainment,  in  which  was  in- 
cluded much  information  about  Captain  Foy. 

But  this  was  soon  after  their  return  from  the 
yacht.  Since  then  Tiny  had  heard  from  the 
Howards  that  Captain  Foy  was  in  town  and  had 
been  there  on  the  previous  Sunday.  So  it  became 
evident  that  he  was  least  in  no  hurry  to  call  on  the 
Harewoods. 

Gradually  Tiny's  mind  seemed  to  settle  down  ; 
her  speculations  respecting  Captain  Foy's  past, 
present,  and  future  intentions  became  less  frequent, 
and  her  anxiety  to  hear  about  him  perceptibly 
diminished.  Wilfred  Lane  at  last  fancied  himself 
in  sight  of  the  **  promised  land"  which  he  had 
striven  so  hard  to  win,  and  he  really  thought  the 
time  was  not  far  distant  when  his  darling's  un- 
divided affection  would  be  his  own. 

Towards  the  end  of  October  the  Harewoods 
again  left  town,  and  were  scattered  about  the 
country,  visiting  different  friends. 

One  of  the  last  visits  Madeline  and  Tiny 
intended  to  pay  together  was  to  The  Cedars. 
Mrs.  Wroughton's  former  kindness  to  Tiny  made 
it  quite  impossible  for  her  to  go  on  inventing  ex- 
cuses, whenever  an  invitation  to  spend  a  {qw  days 
9 


194  A  Rccd  Shaken  ivitJi  the  Wind. 

at  Windsor  arrived.  Her  sisters  had  already 
remarked  upon  former  evasions,  and  Charlotte 
often  called  Tiny  very  ungrateful  for  not  caring  to 
go  to  her  old  friends.  So,  in  spite  of  Tiny's  un- 
willingness, a  visit  was  at  last  arranged.  She  and 
Madeline  engaged  to  spend  a  week  at  The  Cedars, 
where  Lady  Harewood  and  Charlotte  were  to  join 
them  for  a  few  days,  after  which  they  were  all  to 
return  to  London  together. 

As  the  carriage  which  had  been  sent  to  meet 
them  at  the  Windsor  station  drove  rapidly  into  the 
park  gates,  there  was  a  keen  and  frosty  feeling  in 
the  air,  which  reminded  Tiny  vividly  of  the  visit 
she  seemed  destined  never  to  forget.  Her  heart 
beat  with  a  thousand  recollections  which  instantly 
crowded  upon  her,  and  she  almost  felt  as  if  she 
could  not  bear  to  see  the  place  which  was  full  of 
such  sweetly  bitter  memories.  As  she  turned  her 
face  away  from  the  path  which  led  down  to  the 
lake,  where  she  and  Captain  Foy  used  to  go  and 
feed  the  lonely  black  swan  who  had  lost  his  mate, 
her  eye  caught  the  curling  blue  smoke  of  Miss 
Foy's  chimneys,  above  the  trees  which  concealed 
her  cottage  at  the  further  end  of  the  park.  Tiny 
could  almost  fancy  that,  if  she  looked  long  enough, 
she  should  see  the  figure  of  Captain  Foy  treading 
its  way  through  the  clump  of  trees  which  led  by 
the  shrubbery  to  the  rose  garden,  which  had  often 
served  as  their  trysting-place. 

Several  times  Madeline  spoke  to  her ;  but  Tiny 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  195 

was  so  wrapped  up  in  her  own  thoughts  that  she 
never  even  heard  her  sister,  until  she  took  hold  of 
her  arm,  exclaiming — 

'*  Whatever  are  you  thinking  of,  Tiny?  I  have 
spoken  twice,  and  you  don't  answer  me." 

**  I  was  thinking" — began  Tiny,  and  she  paused 
for  a  moment,  and  then  continued  hastily — "  I 
don't  know  what  I  was  thinking  of;  but  I  know  I 
hate  talking  in  a  close  carriage,  and  my  head  aches 
so  dreadfully  that  I  wish  I  might  go  to  bed  when 
we  get  in." 

There  was  no  time  for  further  speech  or  reflec- 
tion, for  the  carriage  had  already  reached  the  door, 
and  Mrs.  Wroughton  came  out  to  welcome  her 
guests  in  the  hall — a  good  old  fashion  which  she 
never  neglected.  Five  o'clock  tea  was  going  on  in 
the  library,  and  the  first  person  Tiny  saw,  as  she 
entered,  was  Miss  Foy,  who  had  come  up  early  to 
dine  and  sleep  at  The  Cedars,  for  her  delicate  state 
of  health  still  obliged  her  to  avoid  the  night  air. 

There  were  several  other  people  in  the  room, 
among  them  Admiral  Merryweather,  Colonel  and 
Mrs.  Ashburton,  and  Mr.  Philpots,  the  incumbent 
of  the  small  church  which  the  Wroughtons 
attended,  when  they  had  no  visitors  who  wished 
to  hear  the  music  at  St.  George's  Chapel,  Windsor. 

As  Tiny  knew  nearly  all  Mrs.  Wroughton's 
county  friends,  much  shaking  of  hands  ensued,  and 
Madeline  was  introduced  to  Mr.  Philpots. 

A  general  re-distribution  of  seats  taking  place, 


196  A  Reed  Shaken  ivith  the  Wi7td. 

Tiny  went  over  to  the  sofa  on  which  Miss  Foy  was 
sitting,  and  there  installed  herself. 

When  Miss  Foy  had  discussed  the  journey  the 
Miss  Harewoods  had  just  made,  the  disagreeables 
attendant  on  railway  travelling  in  general,  and  the 
excellence  of  the  Windsor  line  in  particular,  Tiny 
turned  the  conversation  upon  the  weather,  hoping, 
by  sundry  comparisons  between  this  winter,  last 
winter,  and  the  winter  before  that,  to  carry  back 
the  listener's  mind  to  the  time  of  her  nephew's 
visit,  knowing  that  when  she  was  reminded  of 
Captain  Foy's  existence  she  would  be  sure  to  men- 
tion him.  Tiny  felt  shy  about  speaking  first  her- 
self. Conscious  of  her  own  intense  longing  to  hear 
of  him,  she  did  not  even  dare  to  make  inquiries 
which  would  have  simply  appeared  to  his  aunt 
natural  and  polite. 

Her  little  stratagem  had  its  desired  effect.  As 
soon  as  Miss  Foy  recalled  that  peculiarly  severe 
winter,  and  her  consequent  confinement  to  her 
room,  she  thought  how  her  good  Philip  had  refused 
to  leave  her,  and  how  thankful  she  then  was  that 
The  Cedars  and  its  pleasant  occupants,  including 
the  Harewood  family,  afforded  him  an  occasional 
solace,  during  the  days  when  she  was  too  ill  to  see 
him  at  all. 

'*  Speaking  of  that  winter  reminds  me  of  Philip," 
she  said;  ''you  remember  him,  I  think,  for  you 
were  kind  enough  to  help  my  friends  here  to  en- 
tertain the  dear  fellow.      I  never  shall  forget  how 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  197 

good  he  was,"  continued  the  old  lady,  gratefully. 
**  Nothing  would  induce  him  to  leave  me  till  the 
spring,  when  his  sister  returned  from  abroad,  and 
I  am  sure  it  must  have  been  very  dull  work  to  stay 
with  a  wheezing  old  aunt  like  me." 

"  I  hope  you  are  stronger  now,"  said  Tiny, 
rather  hypocritically,  for  she  could  not  resist  wish- 
ing in  her  heart  that  Miss  Foy  was  ill  again,  and 
once  more  enjoying  her  nephew's  solicitude.  *'  I 
remember  how  anxious  Captain  Foy  was  about 
you,  but  he  told  us  when  we  met  him  in  the  Isle 
of  Wight  that  you  were  much  better." 

"  Yes,  thank  you,  I  am  really  stronger,  I  believe  ; 
so  I  tell  Philip  he  has  lost  his  chance  of  coming 
into  possession  of  the  Wilderness  soon  enough  for 
it  to  be  of  any  use  to  him.  Such  a  small  place," 
she  added,  smiling,  **  will  scarcely  do  for  Lady 
Susan,  though  it  would  have  suited  Philip  very 
well  as  a  bachelor." 

Tiny  could  not  understand  this  reference  to 
''  Lady  Susan." 

Lady  Susan  who  ?  she  felt  inclined  to  say 
eagerly  ;  and  she  thought  it  so  provoking  of  peo- 
ple to  talk  in  such  a  way.  She  was  quite  angry 
with  Miss  Foy  for  supposing  that  she  must  be  ac- 
quainted with  every  circumstance  connected  with 
her  nephew's  future  requirements,  and  her  heart, 
beat  so  violently  that  she  feared  Miss  Foy  would 
hear  it  if  she  did  not  speak.  Controlling  herself 
with  a  great  effort,  she  remarked  that  **  the  Wil- 


198  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

derness  was  one  of  the  prettiest  little  places  she 
had  ever  seen." 

Miss  Foy  was  exceedingly  pleased  with  Tiny's 
appreciation  of  her  home. 

"I  am  naturally  fond  of  it,"  she  replied,  "  for  I 
have  watched  the  growth  of  every  little  plant  and 
shrub  in  the  place,  which  was  really  a  wilderness 
when  I  first  came  to  it  about  fifteen  years  ago. 
Philip  was  then  at  Eton,  and  used  to  come  over  for 
his  holidays,  so  now  I  tell  him  he  had  better  come 
here  for  his  honeymoon  ;  the  Wroughtons  will  be 
away,  and  the  young  couple  would  have  the  park 
all  to  themselves." 

Tiny's  face  grew  very  pale  ;  she  gasped  out — 
'*  Is  Captain  Foy  going  to  be  married  soon?" 
She  could  not  command  her  voice  during  a  longer 
sentence  ;  it  was  evident  from  Miss  Foy's  last 
speech,  and  previous  reference  to  some  unknown 
Lady  Susan,  that  some  marriage  was  really  in 
contemplation, 

"  Well,  I  think  it  will  be  soon  after  Christmas  ; 
and  would  you  believe  it,  Philip  has  the  face  to 
complain  of  waiting  so  long  ?  But  Lord  Fitz- 
william  is  immovable,  and  insists  upon  having  his 
family  about  him  without  any  change  for  another 
Christmas-day.  You  see,"  said  Miss  Foy,  who 
was  always  delighted  to  find  any  one  who  would 
listen  to  all  she  was  willing  to  tell  respecting 
the  nephew  she  had  so  helped  to  spoil,  "  Master 
Phil  has  such  a  sad   character  for  the  havoc  he 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  199 

makes  in  the  hearts  of  young  ladies,  that,  I  think, 
the  old  earl  was  thoroughly  taken  by  surprise  when 
he  found  Philip  had  really  succumbed  to  Lady 
Susan's  charms.  You  know,  my  dear,"  she 
added,  confidentially,  in  a  lower  tone,  ''soldiers 
are  very  naughty  people  ;  they  will  love  and  ride 
away.  I  began  to  think  I  should  never  live  to  see 
Philip  settle  down  into  a  respectable  married  man."- 

Tiny  made  an  attempt  to  say  something  which 
would  sound  like  an  appropriate  congratulation. 
Fortunately  for  her,  Miss  Foy  was  so  engrossed 
with  her  own  thoughts,  that  she  never  noticed  the 
quivering  lips  of  the  pale  girl  beside  her,  who  fal- 
tered out  the  ordinary  phrase  expressive  of  the 
ordinary  feelings  to  which  people  are  expected  to 
give  utterance  on  such  occasions.  Oh !  she 
thought,  if  something  would  put  a  stop  to  this 
conversation,  and  enable  her  to  slip  away  unob- 
served to  another  room ;  she  wanted  air,  she 
Avanted — anything  to  stop  this  rising  in  her  throat, 
which  seemed  likely  to  choke  her.  And  still  she 
yearned  to  hear  all  Miss  Foy  could  tell,  of  the 
man  who  had  taken  such  a  hold  upon  her  life. 

Thanking  Tiny  for  her  kind  w^ishes,  Miss  Foy 
replied  that,  on  the  whole,  she  thought  the  mar- 
riage likely  to  prove  a  very  satisfactory  one,  but 
she  added,  "  I  cannot  get  over  my  surprise  about 
it,  for,  until  I  received  Philip's  letter  on  Thursday, 
announcing  the  engagement,  I  had  never  even 
heard  him  mention   Lady  Susan  in  more  than   a 


200  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

passing   way,   and    did    not   know  he   was   going 
down  to  stay  at  Coombe  Hall." 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Philpots  took  his  depart- 
ure, and  the  other  guests  soon  followed  his 
example.  Mrs.  Wroughton  then  proposed  to 
show  the  Harewoods  their  rooms.  Miss  Foy  was 
already  well  acquainted  with  the  one  assigned  to 
her.  It  was  a  small  bachelor's  room  on  the 
ground-floor,  which  was  always  placed  at  her 
service,  to  save  her  the  exertion  of  going  up  and 
down  stairs. 

As  Mrs.  Wroughton  took  the  girls  away,  she 
noticed  Tiny's  pale  face,  and  its  expression  of 
weariness.  Laying  her  hand  on  her  young  guest's 
arm,  she  rallied  her  upon  her  appearance. 

"  You  look  as  if  you  wanted  another  winter  of 
Windsor  air,  indeed  you  do.  You  must  allow," 
she  continued,  turning  to  Madeline,  "  that  I  sent 
Tiny  home  looking  all  the  better  for  her  visit, 
so  I  think  you  ought  to  trust  me  with  her  again. 
Come,  Tiny,  what  do  you  say  ?  I  am  very  lonely 
here  in  the  winter,  and  it  will  be  quite  a  charity  if 
you  will  come  and  make  the  house  as  lively  and 
cheerful  as  you  did  before.  Oh,  how  you  and 
Captain  Foy  used  to  make  us  all  laugh,  and  \\o\w 
very  badly  you  did  behave  to  him.  I  believe  he 
was  desperately  in  love  with  you,  but  you  snub- 
bed him  so  unmercifully,  you  sad  little  coquette, 
that  you  reserved  him  for  an  earl's  daughter," 
said  Mrs.  Wroughton,  laughing. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  201 

Every  vestige  of  color  fled  from  Tiny's  cheeks, 
and  her  knees  knocked  together  as  she  rested  a 
moment  against  the  balustrade. 

**  Do  you  know,"  said  Tiny,  trying  to  account, 
in  some  reasonable  manner,  for  her  sudden  indis- 
position, '*  I  think  I  am  very  ill  ;  I  ate  some  Bath 
buns  at  the  refreshment-room  at  Slough,  and  I 
think  they  have  poisoned  me." 

Mrs.  Wroughton  was  greatly  concerned  at 
Tiny's  paleness,  but  thought  the  Bath  buns  were 
quite  sufficient  to  explain  it  ;  one  would  have  been 
enough  to  make  her  uncomfortable,  and  Tiny 
talked  of  them  in  the  plural  number,  as  if  they  had 
been  so  many  sugar-plums. 

"  The  little  goiirmande  has  probably  made  her 
luncheon  on  these  horrible  indigestible  cakes," 
she  said  to  herself  as  she  hurried  to  her  room,  in 
search  of  sundry  globules  which,  she  assured 
Tiny,  would  do  her  all  the  good  in  the  world, 
whether  she  believed  in  them  or  not.  Mrs. 
Wroughton  was  a  devout  homoeopathist,  and  was 
only  too  eager  to  seize  every  opportunity  for 
administering  these  mysterious  little  sugar-plums 
to  her  friends. 

Tiny  took  the  globules  upon  condition  that  she 
should  be  left  alone  with  her  maid,  declaring  she 
felt  so  exceedingly  sick,  that  Mrs.  Wroughton  and 
Madeline  must  go  away  directly. 

When  INIadeline  went  back  to  her  sister  in  half 

an    hour,    she   found    that   Pearson    had   already 
9* 


202  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

tied  a  pocket-handkerchief  steeped  in  vinegar  and 
water  round  Tiny's  head,  closed  the  shutters,  and 
put  out  the  Hghts,  and  but  for  the  faint  flickering 
flame  which  came  from  a  pecuHarly  dull  fire,  the 
room  would  have  been  in  total  darkness.  Made- 
line groped  her  way  to  the  sofa,  and,  as  she  did 
so,  she  heard  Tiny  sobbing. 

''  Is  your  head  so  bad,  Tiny  dear  ?  "  she  asked, 
for  it  was  no  unusual  thing  for  Tiny  to  cry  if 
troubled  with  the  slightest  physical  pain. 

"■  Don't  speak  to  me,"  she  answered;  *'it  only 
makes  me  worse,  and  I  was  just  going  to  sleep, 
and  now  you  have  disturbed  me  !  Do  tell  Pearson 
to  leave  the  things,"  she  added  impatiently;  *'  she 
does  nothing  but  tramp  up  and  down  the  room, 
till  I  am  nearly  frantic.  I  am  sure  she  had  time 
enough  to  unpack  our  trunks  while  we  were  talk- 
ing downstairs." 

Madeline  understood  by  the  sound  of  her  sis- 
ter's voice  that  it  would  be  better  to  leave  her 
quite  alone,  so,  without  answering,  she  followed 
the  offending  Pearson,  who  was  disappearing 
at  that  moment  with  a  fresh  load  of  silk  dresses 
into  the  next  room  ;  and,  closing  the  door  behind 
her,  said  that  Miss  Tiny  must  not  be  disturbed, 
and  the  rest  of  the  things  must  remain  as  they 
were  at  present. 

When  Tiny  heard  the  door  fairly  closed,  she 
gave  herself  up  to  the  passionate  grief  she  had  been 
forced  to   repress  in  the  presence   of  others.     It 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  ^        203 

was  so  strange  and  cruel,  she  thought,  that  here  in 
this  very  place,  so  full  of  the  memories  of  that 
Winter,  where  everything  reminded  her  so  vividly 
of  her  past  liappiness,  and  in  the  dreams  in  which 
she  had  Indulged,  that  she  should  learn  how 
utterly  faLc  and  heartless  Captain  Foy  was. 

Relieved  by  the  first  tears  she  had  dared  to 
shed,  Tiny  began  to  reason  w4th  herself.  After 
all,  it  was  nothing  new,  except  that  at  Cowes 
Captain  Foy  had  again  encouraged  her  belief  that 
he  cared  a  great  deal  for  her,  but  did  not  consider 
hi°s  prospects  sufficiently  good  to  enable  him  to 
marry  at  present.  Otherwise,  she  had  long  ago 
given  up  all  hope,  ever  since  she  saw  that  he  did 
not  care  to  call  at  Grosvenor  Crescent,  and  rumor 
had  connected  his  name  with  Miss  Peel. 

Before  the  Roman  visit,  Tiny  had  begun  to  sus- 
pect the  truth  as  to  Captain  Foy's  real  character. 
Why,  then,  did  she  feel  such  surprise  now  ? 
Well,  it  must  be,  she  supposed,  because  she  had 
attached  too  much  importance  to  his  attentions 
on  board  the  yacht,  when  he  appeared  once  more 
to  yield  himself  to  the  pleasure  of  watching  her  in- 
nocent fair  cheeks  flush  with  joy  at  his  approach, 
and  noting  the  little  flutterings  by  which  she 
betrayed  her  feeling  for  him,  whenever  he  man- 
aged to  steal  her  hand  and  hold  it  in  his  own  for 
a  few  minutes. 

''  Why  did  he  come  and  stand  so  close,  and  look 
so  earnestly  into  her  eyes,  if  he  did  not  love  her  ?  " 


204  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

And  Tiny  gave  way  to  another  passionate  fit  of 
crying. 

By  this  time  her  poor  httle  head  ached  in  good 
earnest. 

Before  Madehne  went  down  to  dinner,  she 
helped  Pearson  to  undress  her  sister,  and  they  left 
with  the  understanding  that  no  one  should  come 
in  until  she  rang  her  bell  ;  then  Pearson  was  to 
bring  a  cup  of  tea  and  some  buttered  toast. 

Tiny  very  soon  sobbed  herself  to  sleep,  and  did 
not  wake  until  nearly  midnight,  long  after  Made- 
line had  been  in  her  room  ;  Pearson  had  already 
been  dismissed  for  the  night,  after  duly  providing 
the  teapot,  having  substituted  bread  and  butter 
for  the  toast  as  less  likely  to  increase  her  young 
mistress'  bilious  headache,  so  everything  was 
in  readiness  against  the  time  when  Miss  Tiny 
should  awake. 

As  soon  as  Madeline  heard  her  sister's  voice, 
she  carried  in  the  little  tray  prepared  for  her. 
Tiny  sat  up  in  bed,  and  after  a  strong  cup  of  tea 
and  two  pieces  of  bread  and  butter,  began  to  feel 
so  much  better  that  she  wanted  to  hear  the  news  ; 
who  had  been  at  dinner,  what  everybody  had  said, 
and  whether  Madeline  had  talked  to  Miss  Foy  ? 

So  Madeline  amused  Tiny  for  the  next  half 
hour  with  all  the  gossip  of  the  evening,  including 
Miss  Foy's  information  about  "  my  nephew  and 
Lady  Susan,"  which  she  did  not  in  the  faintest 
degree  connect  with  Tiny's  violent  headache. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  205 

Finding  her  sister  knew  no  more  than  she  did 
about  Captain  Foy's  intended  marriage,  Tiny 
wished  her  good-night,  and  resolved  to  go  to  sleep 
without  thinking  any  more  of  anybody. 

Just  as  a  dreamy  drowsy  sensation  was  creeping 
over  her,  she  remembered  Wilfred's  tenderness 
and  thoughtful  love,  and  prayed  that  she  might  be 
able  to  give  herself  up  entirely  to  him,  and  be 
made  worthy  of  his  generous  devotion. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

There  are  loves  in  man' s  life  for  which  time  can  renew 
All  that  time  may  destroy. 

LuciLE. 

The  next  morning  Tiny  looked  a  little  paler 
than  usual,  but  otherwise  she  seemed  in  excellent 
health  and  spirits.  There  were  several  people 
staying  in  the  house,  and  what  with  the  walks  be- 
tween the  late  breakfast  and  luncheon,  and  the 
riding  and  driving  afterwards,  with  billiards  from 
five-o'clock  tea  till  the  dressing  bell  rang  for  din- 
ner, whist,  and  the  round  games  which  occupied 
the  evening,  there  was  little  or  no  time  for  thought. 
Lady  Harewood  and  Charlotte  joined  the  party  at 
the  appointed  time,  and  carried  off  Madeline  and 
Tiny  after  a  few  days'  visit,  in  spite  of  Mrs. 
Wroughton's  endeavors  to  persuade  the  latter  to 
remain  a  little  longer  at  Windsor. 

But  Tiny  was  far  too  anxious  to  return  to  Wil- 
fred. She  was  longing  to  talk  to  him  over  the  al- 
tered state  of  affairs  with  regard  to  Captain  Foy. 

When  Wilfred  heard  of  the  intended  marriage, 
it  appeared  to  him  natural  that  this  intelligence 
should  rekindle  all  the  old  interest  in  Tiny's  breast ; 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wmd.  207 

and  if  Captain  Foy  again  engrossed  a  larger  share 
of  their  conversation  and  Tiny's  thoughts  than 
Wilfred  at  all  liked,  he  hoped  it  was  the  dying 
flicker  of  the  lamp  before  it  expired  altogether. 

And  so  it  proved.  Gradually  the  subject  seemed 
to  pain  her  less  ;  she  talked  more  reasonably  about 
it  than  formerly,  and  at  last  one  day  positively 
amazed  Wilfred  by  laughing  over  her  episode  with 
Captain  Foy.  She  had  long  ago  burnt  one  or  two 
little  notes  which  he  had  contrived  to  send  her 
when  he  first  knew  her,  and  the  only  memento 
she  retained  was  a  little  horseshoe  charm,  which 
she  now  ceased  to  wear.  One  day,  in  a  sudden 
burst  of  endearment,  which  reminded  Wilfred  of 
those  happy  days  before  the  Ariel  anchored  next 
the  Highflyer  at  Cowes,  Tiny  threw  her  arms 
round  his  neck,  and  declared  she  would  not  ex- 
change him  for  fifty  Captain  Foys. 

Wilfred's  heart  beat  tumultuously  ;  he  reaped  at 
last  the  reward  of  his  long  and  patient  waiting. 
Taking  Tiny  in  his  arms,  he  held  her  closely  to 
him,  and  told  her  to  look  up  in  his  face,  that  he 
might  read  in  her  eyes  the  same  truth  her  lips  had 
spoken. 

When  he  saw  the  passionate  expression  with 
which  Tiny  answered  him, 

"  They  kissed  so  close  they  could  not  vow,' 

And  once  more  holding  her  at  arm's  length  and 
gazing  into  her  face  as  if  to  make  himself  sure  of 


2o8  A  Reed  SJiakeii  with  the  Wind. 

her  love,  he  hastily  disengaged  himself  and  left  the 
room. 

Now  that  the  sorrow  was  over,  Wilfred  Lane 
realized  the  heavy  strain  which  had  been  upon  him 
ever  since  that  evening  at  Ryde  when  Tiny  con- 
fessed the  secret  she  had  previously  concealed. 
For  a  long  time  he  had  watched  her  and  tried  to 
sound  the  depths  of  her  strange  character  ;  but 
whenever  he  thought  he  had  arrived  at  an  under- 
standing of  the  different  motives  which  influenced 
her  actions.  Tiny  would  by  some  curious  inconsis- 
tency scatter  his  conclusions  to  the  winds. 

One  thing  only  she  persistently  maintained, 
namely,  that  the  bond  between  herself  and  Wilfred 
had  acquired  fresh  strength  and  sanctity  from  the 
day  on  which  she  confessed  to  him  her  attach- 
ment for  Captain  Foy  ;  and  she  quoted  George 
Ehot  in  support  of  her  feeling,  in  these  very  words : 
"  Every  day  and  night  of  joy  or  sorrow  is  a  new 
ground,  a  new  consecration,  for  the  love  that  is 
nourished  by  memories  as  well  as  hopes — the  love 
to  which  perpetual  repetition  is  not  a  weariness  but 
a  want,  and  to  which  a  separated  joy  is  the  begin- 
ning of  pain." 

When  Wilfred  had  seen  how  Tiny  brooded 
over  every  incident  connected  with  Captain  Foy, 
how  she  recalled  his  looks  and  tones,  how  per- 
versely this  loving  little  soul  would  endow  his 
careless  speeches  witli  a  meaning  and  a  warmth 
never  acquired  from  him,  he  had  sometimes  feared 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  209 

that  she  would  never  cease  to  care  for  him.  He 
knew  there  were  souls  thus  constituted,  thus  frail 
and  delicate  and  tender,  and  he  trembled  lest  his 
own  true  passion  should  fail  to  recall  Tiny  to  hap- 
piness and  love. 

But  in  that  last  embrace  she  had  seemed  to  as- 
sure him  that  she  had  lived  through  her  fir^t  mis- 
take without  having  lost  the  capacity  of  loving, 
and  after  a  few  weeks  of  despair  the  rebound  was 
so  great  that  it  carried  his  hopes  at  once  to  the  ut- 
most point  they  had  ever  reached. 

Tiny  had  really  learnt  to  love  him — at  last  her 
heart  was  entirely  his  own. 


Towards  the  end  of  January  the  Court  Circular 
devoted  two  columns  and  a  half  to  the  description 
of  the  *'  marriage  in  high  life  of  Lady  Susan  Fitz- 
william  and  Captain  Philip  Foy."  The  ingenious 
chronicler  of  that  event  dwelt  ad  nauseam  upon 
the  extreme  loveliness  of  the  bride,  the  gallant  de- 
votion of  the  young  and  distinguished  officer  who 
led  her  to  the  hymeneal  altar,  and  the  rich  and 
tasteful  toilettes  of  the  six  noble  maidens  who  offi- 
ciated as  bridemaids.  The  exquisite  and  valua- 
ble cadeaitx  which  the  happy  and  fortunate  newly- 
married  pair  received  as  wedding  presents  from 
their  numerous  and  aristocratic  acquaintances — 
one  and  all — were  all  duly  detailed,  and  the  whole 
aftair  seemed  to  afford  Tiny  a  great  deal  of  fun, 


2IO  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

until  it  appeared  to  Wilfred  that  she  simply  re- 
garded it  as  so  much  food  for  merriment. 

Certainly  he  could  not  accuse  her  of  too  much 
feeling  now  ;  and  but  that  he  was  overjoyed  at  the 
change  which  had  lately  come  over  her,  he  would 
have  wished  that  her  amusement  had  been  in- 
dulged in  a  quieter  and  less  demonstrative  man- 
ner. But  Tiny  had  a  w^ay  of  her  own  about  every- 
thing, and  it  was  useless  to  expect  that  she  would 
ever  act  like  other  people  ;  and  when  Wilfred 
came  to  think  of  it,  he  never  wished  to  see  her 
like  anything  but  herself  ! 

The  next  few  weeks  were  the  happiest  in  Wil- 
fred Lane's  life.  The  black  cloud  which  had 
threatened  to  ingulf  him  had  disappeared  ;  his 
darling  seemed  to  lean  entirely  on  him,  and  to 
find  life  sweet  for  his  sake.  On  the  first  of  June 
he  promised  himself  that  his  felicity  would  be  per- 
fect. Day  after  day,  when  he  reached  Grosvenor 
Crescent,  he  saw  Tiny's  little  face  pressed  against 
the  library  Vv'indow,  in  order  that  she  might  catch 
the  first  glimpse  of  her  lover  as  soon  as  he  came  in 
sight ;  and  both  began  to  count  the  days  which 
divided  them  from  that  on  which  Lady  Harewood 
had  promised  her  consent  to  their  marriage. 
Tiny  repeatedly  assured  Wilfred  that  her  life  was 
bound  up  in  him,  and  Wilfred  certainly  had  no 
thought  apart  from  Tiny,  and  could  imagine  no 
future  of  which  she  was  not  the  central  figure. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

"  Hopes,  what  aie  they?     Beads  of  morning 
Strung  on  slender  blades  of  gi'ass  ; 
Or  a  spider's  web  adorning 

In  a  strait  and  treacherous  pass." 

Wordsworth. 

In  the  middle  of  March,  Tiny  went  with  Lady 
Harewood  on  a  few  days'  visit  to  General  and 
Lady  Isabella  Drummond.  Her  mother  insisted 
on  taking  Tiny  to  Bellingham  Castle,  because  she 
heard  that  Sir  Guy  Fairfax  would  be  there  ;  and 
she  felt  the  time  was  drawing  near  when  her  favor- 
ite scheme  must  be  relinquished  altogether,  unless 
Sir  Guy  was  aided,  both  speedily  and  effectually, 
in  his  pursuit  of  Tiny's  hand. 

Tiny  left  London  in  happy  ignorance  of  her 
mother's  intentions,  which  were,  however,  des- 
tined to  meet  with  signal  disappointment ;  for,  on 
reaching  the  Castle,  Lady  Harewood  discovered 
Sir  Guy  was  not  expected  until  the  very  day  on 
which  she  and  Tiny  were  to  take  their  departure. 
Her  mortification  was  extreme  ;  and  so  was  her 
rage  against  Lady  Isabella,  whom  she  secretly  ac- 
cused of  machinations  to  entrap  the  wealthy  young 


212  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

baronet  "  for  one  of  those  tall,  gawky  girls  of  hers, 
about  whom  she  made  such  a  ridiculous  fuss." 

Tiny  and  the  Miss  Drummonds  had  always  been 
on  the  best  of  terms  ;  indeed,  it  was  very  difficult 
for  any  one  to  resist  Tiny's  coaxing  ways,  which 
perfectly  bewitched  men,  and  so  fascinated  the 
ladies  of  her  acquaintance,  that  she  generally  es- 
caped being  judged  by  the  ordinary  standard. 
This  was  certainly  very  fortunate  for  Miss  Tiny 
Harewood,  for  she  was  in  the  habit  of  saying  and 
doing  in  one  day  more  daring  and  unconventional 
things  than  most  young  ladies  would  venture  upon 
in  the  whole  course  of  their  lives. 

The  Drummonds  were  getting  up  some  private 
theatricals  which  were  to  take  place  the  week  after 
Easter,  and  to  be  followed  by  a  dance.  Tiny  was 
soon  pressed  into  the  service  ;  and,  after  much  re- 
flection on  the  part  of  Lady  Harewood  as  to  the 
probable  result  of  leaving  her,  it  was  arranged 
that  she  should  stay  on  at  Bellingham  Castle  after 
her  mother's  departure,  in  order  to  take  her  part 
in  the  necessary  rehearsals.  Lady  Harewood  and 
her  other  daughters  were  to  come  for  the  second 
performance  of  the  play,  which  was  to  be  given  on 
two  consecutive  nights.  The  Drummonds'  visit- 
ing list  was  so  extensive,  that  no  amount  of  crush- 
ing v/ould  have  enabled  them  on  one  night  to  re- 
ceive all  the  people  they  "  ought  to  ask,"  and  the 
old  General  was  very  particular  in  never  allow- 
ing the  miniature  theatre  to  be  overcrowded. 


A  Reed  SJiakcn  with  the  Wind.  213 

The  play  selected  was  ''The  Hunchback  ;  "  and 
Modus  was  the  part  assigned  to  Reginald  Macnagh- 
ten,  Lady  Isabella's  nephew,  a  young  lieutenant  in 
the  Guards.  Until  Tiny's  arrival  the  Miss  Drum- 
monds  could  not  agree  as  to  who  would  best  acquit 
herself  as  Helen;  but,  with  one  accord,  they  fixed 
upon  her,  declaring  that  she  would  act  the  part  to 
perfection.  Tiny  at  first  scrupled  to  undertake  the 
representation  of  this  forward  young  damsel,  and 
hesitated  about  making  the  necessary  overtures  to 
Mr.  Macnaghten  in  his  character  of  Modus ;  but 
the  girls  assured  her  that,  as  their  cousin  was  as 
good  as  engaged  to  a  certain  Miss  Lucy  Scott, 
there  could  be  no  possible  objection  to  her  making 
love  to  him  in  the  play.  So  all  lingering  doubts 
or  objections  on  Wilfred's  account  were  dismissed. 
Tiny  learnt  her  part ;  the  different  scenes  were  re- 
hearsed ;  and  the  days  were  spent  in  preparation 
for  the  grand  performance  which  was  to  crown 
their  labors. 

At  first,  Mr.  Reginald  Macnaghten  was  not  over 
pleased  with  the  idea  of  Tiny  Harewood  as  Helen. 
He  made  this  as  apparent  as  he  could,  with  any 
show  of  politeness,  before  the  young  lady  herself, 
and  expressed  his  disapproval  openly  to  Gertrude 
and  Isabel  Drummond  :  but  they  fired  up  so  ve- 
hemently in  defence  of  Tiny's  capability  of  doing 
full  justice  to  the  part  assigned  her,  that  young 
Macnaghten  perceived  that  it  was  a  settled  thing, 
and  he  must  make  the  best  of  it. 


214  -^  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.' 

At  the  very  first  rehearsal,  however,  he  was 
forced  to  acknowledge  the  wisdom  of  his  cousins' 
choice  ;  and,  before  long,  the  curious  dominion 
Tiny  exerted  over  men,  which  made  them  go  down 
on  their  knees  at  once,  became  apparent  in  the 
young  Guardsman's  case.  His  manner  in  the  final 
love-making  scene  became  a  great  deal  too  earnest 
and  life-like,  and  the  whole  position  enabled  him 
to  assume  an  intimacy  with  Tiny  Harewood  which 
was  (to  say  the  least  of  it)  extremely  dangerous 
for  both. 

Is  it  not  Thackeray  who  remarks  that  it  is  "  fort- 
unate for  men  that  women,  like  the  beasts  of  the 
field,  don't  know  their  own  power  ;  they  would 
overcome  men  entirely  if  they  did  "  ?  Perhaps  it 
was  Tiny's  accurate  measurement  of  her  own  at- 
tractions which  made  them  so  peculiarly  fatal  ! 

A  great  deal  went  on  before  any  one  noticed  the 
flirtation  ;  and  when  the  girls  first  saw  how  com- 
pletely e'pris  their  cousin  was,  they  considered  it 
excellent  fun,  and  a  righteous  judgment  upon  that 
young  gentleman  for  the  slighting  manner  in  which 
he  had  at  first  spoken  of  Tiny.  Lady  Isabella  was 
the  last  to  remark  the  state  of  affairs,  but  when  she 
did  observe  it  she  was  not  inclined  to  interfere  with 
either  of  her  guests.  Tiny's  position  with  regard 
to  Wilfred  Lane  was  unknown  to  her  ;  and  she 
thought  it  always  much  wiser,  in  such  matters,  to 
let  things  take  their  own  course.  Besides,  Tiny 
carried  on  her  part  of  the  flirtation  in  such  an  ex- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  215 

ceedingly  open  fashion,  that  Lady  Isabella  doubted 
if  she  had  any  real  feeling  for  Reginald  Macnagh- 
ten  ;  and  as  for  him,  he  was  old  enough  to  manage 
his  own  affairs.  If  his  attachment  for  Lucy  Scott 
was  of  so  slight  a  nature,  why,  it  was  better  for 
the  poor  girl  to  find  it  out  before  marriage  than 
after. 

So  Miss  Tiny  Harewood  and  the  young  Guards- 
man had  it  all  their  own  way. 

Tiny  quickly  perceived  that  Mr.  Macnaghten 
had  not  in  the  first  instance  evinced  a  due  appre- 
ciation of  her  charms,  so  she  resolved  to  bring  him 
into  proper  subjection  ;  and  it  must  be  confessed 
she  effected  this  with  a  rapidity  which  even  aston- 
ished herself.  When  Tiny  determined  to  fascinate 
a  man  she  seldom  failed  to  accomplish  it ;  and  was 
scarcely  likely  to  do  so  in  the  case  of  one  so  inex- 
perienced as  her  present  admirer,  whose  feeling  for 
Lucy  Scott  was  but  the  first  sentimental  affection 
of  a  mere  boy. 

Tiny  was  not  so  heartless  as  to  have  any  definite 
intention  of  bringing  pain  to  the  girl,  who  all  this 
while  cherished  a  belief  in  an  affection  which  was 
sensibly  diminishing  before  the  bright  glances  of 
another.     But  she  was  utterly  thoughtless. 

**  And  evil  is  wrought  by  want  of  thought  , 

As  well  as  by  want  of  heart." 

Reginald  Macnaghten's  indifference  during  the 
first  days  of  their  acquaintance,  had  fired  her  with 


2i6  A  Reed  Shaken  zvitJi  the  Wind. 

the  old  love  of  conquest ;  and  her  vanity  and  love 
of  admiration  were  insatiable.  Now  that  she  al- 
lowed the  old  spirit  to  assert  itself,  it  did  so  with 
renewed  vigor,  and  after  a  few  days  Tiny  seemed 
to  lose  all  power  of  controlling  it,  and  was  soon  in 
the  midst  of  a  flirtation  which  threatened  to  exceed 
even  those  in  which  she  had  indulged  the  season 
before  she  accepted  the  love  of  her  cousin,  and 
promised  to  regard  herself  as  his  affianced  wife. 

Wilfred  Lane  was  not  there  to  influence  her  ;  and 
as  no  one  at  Bellingham  Castle  interfered,  these 
young  people  afforded  a  great  deal  of  amusement 
to  the  whole  circle  of  their  friends,  and  were  quite 
undisturbed  in  the  plans  they  daily  made  for  their 
mutual  entertainment.  If  Tiny  rode,  it  was  looked 
upon  as  a  settled  thing  that  Reginald  w^ould  also 
ride  ;  and  it  followed  as  a  natural  consequence, 
that,  w^hen  the  riding  part}^  divided  into  pairs, 
Reginald  and  Tiny  fell  behind  and  kept  at  a  dis- 
tance, which  w^as  by  no  means  as  necessary  for  the 
convenience  of  the  rest  of  the  party  as  their  own. 
If  Tiny  walked,  Reginald's  horse  w^as  counter- 
manded ;  and  if  he  did  not  actually  take  her  in  to 
dinner,  somehow  or  other  they  always  found 
themselves  side  by  side. 

Sir  Guy  Fairfax  came  down  at  the  appointed 
time,  and  left  in  despair.  He  could  never  get  a 
word  with  Tiny  "  for  that  confounded  puppy  Mac- 
naghten  ;  "  and  began  to  weary  of  this  fruitless 
pursuit  of  a  girl  who  seemed  utterly  indifferent  to 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind,  217 

attractions  readily  enough  appreciated  by  most  of 
the  young  ladies  of  his  acquaintance. 

General  Drummond  and  Wilfred's  father  had 
been  great  friends  in  early  life  ;  and,  as  it  was  no 
uncommon  event  for  Wilfred  to  spend  a  few  days 
at  Bellingham  Castle,  it  excited  no  surprise,  when 
Lady  Isabella  announced  at  breakfast  one  morn- 
ing, that  she  had  invited  him  to  join  the  party  on 
the  following  Saturday. 

Tiny  was  absolutely  delighted  when  she  heard 
Wilfred  was  coming  ;  and  not  only  gave  full  vent 
to  her  feelings  in  public,  but  privately  indited  a 
note,  begging  him  to  remain  over  the  Monday  if 
he  could  get  leave  of  absence,  because  Monday 
was  the  day  for  the  first  dress  rehearsal,  and  she 
wanted  him  to  be  present  above  everything. 

In  the  meantime  Mr.  Macnaghten's  feeling  for 
Tiny  was  fast  passing  all  bounds  ;  and,  whenever 
they  were  alone,  she  had  enough  to  do  to  laugh 
away  his  serious  speeches.  It  taxed  her  ingenuity 
not  a  little,  to  keep  him  to  the  absurd  and  ridicu- 
lous style  they  assumed  towards  each  other  in 
public.  Once  or  twice  Reginald  had  been  on  the 
point  of  declaring  his  affection  for  her,  but  as,  in 
her  opinion,  this  would  have  spoilt  the  whole 
affair.  Tiny  kept  such  a  firm  hand  over  him,  that 
he  feared  to  risk  his  position  by  a  premature 
avowal,  conscious  that,  at  present.  Tiny  would  cut 
the  matter  short,  and  thus  bring  to  an   end  their 

free  and  pleasant  intercourse* 
10 


21 8  A  Reed  Shake jl  with  the  Wind. 

So  he  contented  himself  by  giving  Tiny  to  un- 
derstand, as  far  as  he  dared,  that  he  was  resolved 
to  wait,  in  the  hope  of  inducing  her  some  day  to 
return  the  affection  she  had  inspired  malgr(f  ltd  in 
his  own  breast.  He  even  alluded  to  Lucy  Scott, 
when  he  found  that  Tiny  was  in  possession  of  his 
little  secret,  and  assured  her  that  no  engagement 
had  ever  existed  between  them,  and  that  he  should 
"  pitch  into  his  cousins  for  such  an  unwarrantable 
use  of  Miss  Scott's  name,  at  the  first  possible  op- 
portunity." Mr.  Reginald  Macnaghten  was  dis- 
covering that  *'  absence  makes  the  heart  grow 
fonder — of  somebody  else.'' 

It  was  all  very  well  to  assure  Tiny  Harewood 
that  he  had  never  loved  Lucy  Scott  ;  but  the 
young  lieutenant  was  somewhat  troubled  in  his 
own  mind  about  his  conduct.  He  felt  himself  in 
an  awkward  position  ;  for  Miss  Scott  and  he  had 
exchanged  sundry  words  which  he  now  wished  al- 
together expunged  from  her  memory.  He  was  not 
engaged  to  her  ;  but  he  knew  he  had  taken  as 
much  trouble  last  summer  to  secure  the  confiding 
heart  of  that  quiet  retiring  girl,  as  he  was  now  be- 
stowing to  capture  this  provoking  little  butterfly, 
who  seemed  to  elude  him  just  when  he  made  most 
sure  of  winning  her  ;  and  who  yet  continued  to 
draw  him  on  in  a  manner  which  so  tantalized  him, 
that  more  than  once  he  was  on  the  point  of  losing 
his  well-sustained  control,  and  risking  his  fate  by 
an  immediate  declaration. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  219 

Tiny's  interest  in  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Wilfred 
Lane  was  by  no  means  pleasing  to  her  present 
adorer,  who  never  felt  less  inclined  to  obey  her 
commands  than  he  did  on  that  Saturday  afternoon, 
when  she  requested  him  to  gather  a  fresh  sprig  of 
ivy  from  the  wall  they  were  passing,  because 
her  cousin  liked  her  to  wear  it  in  her  hair  in  pref- 
erence to  all  the  wreaths  which  ever  came  out  of 
Regent  Street. 

His  displeasure  amounted  to  absolute  exaspera- 
tion when  the  gentleman  in  question  made  his  ap- 
pearance. True  to  his  promise  to  Lady  Hare- 
wood,  Mr.  Lane  was  guarded  in  society,  in  order 
to  prevent  his  real  position  with  his  cousin  being 
remarked  upon.  But  the  eyes  of  a  jealous  lover 
were  too  keen  to  be  deceived  by  a  disguise  which 
did  well  enough  for  the  rest  of  the  world  ;  and,  in 
spite  of  all  caution,  there  was  a  quiet  sense  of 
ownership  in  Wilfred's  manner  with  Tiny,  which 
perfectly  infuriated  Macnaghten.  He  thought, 
too,  that  Tiny  seemed  afraid  of  Lane  ;  doubtless 
he  exercised  some  authority  over  her,  for  Reginald 
noticed  that  she  avoided  him  after  Lane's  arrival, 
and  for  the  first  time  purposely  went  to  the  other 
side  of  the  table  at  dinner,  and  transferred  all  her 
attentions  to  this  odious  cousin. 

Mr.  Macnaghten  considered  himself  aggrieved, 
and  not  unnaturally  hated  Wilfred  Lane  from  the 
bottom  of  his  soul.  After  the  ladies  retired,  he 
sat  opposite  his  enemy,  cracking  nuts,  and  feehng 


220  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

there  was  no  injury  in  the  world  he  would  not  do 
him  if  a  benevolent  providence  ever  placed  it  in 
his  power.  Quite  unconsciously  Wilfred  increased 
the  young  man's  wrath  ;  noticing  Macnaghten's 
silence,  and  attributing  it  to  shyness,  he  tried  to 
draw  him  into  conversation,  which  Reginald  mis- 
took for  malicious  condescension,  and  resented  ac- 
cordingly. 

During  the  evening  Tiny  was  asked  to  sing ; 
Wilfred,  being  near  the  piano-forte,  opened  it  for 
his  cousin,  and  helped  her  to  find  her  music  (which 
was  of  course  in  confusion  and  in  everybody's 
portfolio  instead  of  her  own).  Macnaghten 
watched  them  ;  scowling  at  Wilfred  with  a  rising 
anger,  which  nearly  burst  all  bounds  when  the  lat- 
ter in  his  quiet  easy  manner  removed  the  song  be- 
fore Tiny,  and  insisted  on  her  singing  one  selected 
by  himself  from  the  mass  of  music  before  them. 

''The  cool  impudent  beggar!"  muttered  the 
disconcerted  Macnaghten  between  his  teeth ; 
**  how  she  can  stand  his  interference  I  can't  think. 
If  I  asked  for  a  particular  song,  it  would  be  quite 
enough  to  make  her  say  it  was  the  very  one  which 
did  not  suit  her  voice." 

When  Tiny  finished  singing  **  Dove  sono,''  Reg- 
inald found  every  fault  he  could  think  of  with  it, 
in  a  way  which  Wilfred  thought  exceedingly  rude. 
Tiny  was  secretly  amused  ;  she  knew  well  enough 
what  was  passing  in  both  their  minds,  and  resolv- 
ed  to  excite  the  indignation  of  her  youthful  ad- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  221 

mirer  still  more  ;  so  she  paid  no  attention  to  his 
remarks,  but,  turning  to  Wilfred,  asked  him  to 
sing  her  favorite  song  by  Hatton,  **To  Anthea 
who  may  command  him  anything,"  the  accompani- 
ment of  which  she  knew  by  heart  ;  Wilfred  did 
not  understand  much  about  music.  He  was  a 
little  too  fond  of  taking  his  "  own  time  "  to  please 
Tiny  ;  but  then  he  had  a  pleasant  voice  and  a  per- 
fect ear,  and  his  enunciation  was  so  clear  and  dis- 
tinct that  his  singing  was  generally  liked.  On  the 
present  occasion  he  did  full  justice  to  this  spirited 
song  ;  and  when  Macnaghten  saw  the  glance  he- 
gave  Tiny  as  he  came  to  the  words — 

**  Thou  art  my  life,  my  soul,  my  heart, 
The  very  eyes  of  me  ; 
And  hast  command  of  every  part 
To  live  and  die  for  thee  " — 

which  he  sang  with  intense  feeling,  Reginald 
thought  he  should  like  **  to  pitch  the  confounded 
fellow  out  of  the  window,  and  the  music-stool  after 
him." 

As  the  proprieties  of  the  nineteenth  century 
forbade  this  summary  way  of  proceeding,  he  was 
forced  to  content  himself  with  the  observation  that 
he  thought* 'the  accompaniment  extremely  loud 
and  noisy  ;  and  the  words  the  most  foolish  he  had 
ever  heard  in  his  life,"  leaving  Mr.  Lane  wavering 
between  doubts  as  to  the  sanity  of  this  young  man, 
and  a  growing  conviction  that  Mr.  Reginald  Mac- 


222  A  Reed  Shakejt  with  the  Wind. 

naghten  was,  without  exception,  the  rudest  and 
most  ill-mannered  individual  in  Her  Majesty's  ser- 
vice ! 

When  the  music  ceased,  whist  was  proposed, 
and  Wilfred  was  placed  at  a  table  with  General 
Drummond,  Mrs.  Wilmot  (a  pretty  young  widow 
staying  in  the  house),  and  Miss  Robertson,  who 
was  dining  there  with  her  father  that  evening  ;  not 
far  off  was  another  quartett,  composed  of  Gertrude, 
Tiny,  Captain  Reynolds,  and  Reginald. 

Now  that  Wilfred  was  at  some  little  distance, 
and  Tiny  resumed  her  old  playful  manner,  Regi- 
nald began  to  thaw  ;  indeed  it  would  have  been  a 
difficult  task  for  a  more  ill-tempered  man  than  he 
was  to  remain  sulky  under  the  influence  of  the  fun 
and  merriment  Tiny  Harewood  always  introduced 
at  cards — much  to  the  displeasure  of  graver  people, 
who  generally  seem  to  regard  whist  as  a  serious 
game,  in  which  their  reputations  as  well  as  their 
purses  are  at  stake,  objecting  to  the  utterance  of  a 
single  unnecessary  word  during  the  whole  game. 
Tiny  openly  avowed  that  she  abhorred  such  so- 
lemnity,— she  hated  whist  unless  allowed  to  cheat 
and  talk  as  much  as  she  pleased  !  With  or  with- 
out permission  Tiny's  tongue  seldom  stopped ; 
and  she  certainly  neglected  no  opportunity  of  look- 
ing over  her  neighbor's  cards,  and  proclaiming, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  entire  party,  the  trump  card 
she  discovered  in  an  opponent's  hand. 

It  was   now  Wilfred's  turn  to   look   somewhat 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  223 

eagerly  across  the  room  to  the  table  from  which 
all  this  fun  and  merriment  proceeded  ;  and  it  re- 
quired no  small  effort  on  his  part  to  conceal  how 
fearfully  his  own  game  bored  him.  During  the 
last  rubber  he  made  a  mis-deal ;  twice  he  failed  to 
return  his  partner's  lead ;  and  once,  to  Mrs.  Wil- 
mot's  great  disgust,  he  nearly  trumped  her  trick. 
To  his  relief  the  third  rubber  at  last  came  to  an 
end  ;  and,  paying  up  his  losses,  Wilfred  rose,  in 
order,  as  he  said,  to  make  room  for  a  better 
player.  So  Mr.  Robertson,  encouraged  by  Mr. 
Lane's  misfortune  (yet  declaring  himself  no  player 
at  all),  ventured  to  hope  Mrs.  Wilmot  would  ac- 
cept him  as  Wilfred's  substitute,  and  that  he  should 
help  her  to  retrieve  her  past  ill-luck. 

Wilfred  Lane  strolled  to  the  other  table,  and 
stood  behind  Macnaghten,  watching  the  game. 
His  familiarity  with  Tiny  was  extremely  distasteful 
to  Wilfred  ;  and  the  way  in  which  he  addressed  her 
as  **  partner"  did  not  at  all  diminish  the  dislike 
which  the  young  man's  rudeness  had  already  ex- 
cited. 

When  the  ladies  left  the  drawing-rooms,  Ger- 
trude took  such  firm  possession  of  his  cousin  that 
Wilfred  saw  he  had  no  chance  of  a  word  with  her 
unobserved  by  the  company  at  large  ;  so  he  said 
good-night  to  them  both,  his  eyes  resting  with  a 
loving  longing  expression  upon  Tiny.  Just  as 
they  reached  the  door,  Reginald  Macnaghten 
jumped  up,  and  catching  hold  of  Gertrude's  arm, 


224  ^  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

to  Wilfred's   great  annoyance  left  the  room  with 
the  two  girls. 

Some  minutes  later,  when  Wilfred  crossed  the 
hall  with  General  Drummond  on  the  way  to  the 
billiard  room,  he  looked  up  and  saw  Tiny  and 
Gertrude  still  talking  on  the  staircase  to  this  ob- 
noxious little  Guardsman  ;  and  heard  him  say,  as 
he  turned  from  Tiny — with  a  gesture  and  familiar- 
ity which  absolutely  enraged  him — 

"  Her  lips  shall  be  in  danger 
"When  next  she  trusts  them  near  me  !  " 

Wilfred  Lane  knew  all  about  the  play  ;  but,  in 
his  anger,  it  did  not  occur  to  him  that  Mr.  Mac- 
naghten's  speech  was  a  simple  quotation. 

It  was,  perhaps,  well  for  all  parties  that  only 
Captain  Reynolds  joined  the  billiard  players  that 
night,  and  that  Mr.  Lane's  anger  had  time  to  ex- 
pend itself  on  the  unlimited  number  of  cigars 
which  he  smoked  before  he  went  to  bed. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

*  *  Sundaies  the  pillars  are 
On  which  heav'n's  palace  arched  lies  ; 
The  other  dayes  fill  up  the  spare 
And  hollow  room  with  vanities. 

•  •  •  •  • 

The  Sundaies  of  man's  life, 
Thredded  together  on  time's  string, 
Make  bracelets  to  adorn  the  wife 
Of  the  eternall  glorious  King. 
On  Sunday  heaven's  gate  stands  ope ; 
Blessings  are  plentifull  and  rife, 
More  plentifull  than  hope." 

George  Herbert, 

Breakfast  at  Bellingham  Castle  on  Sunday 
morning  was  always  at  nine,  instead  often  o'clock. 
Lady  Isabella  Drummond  wished  her  servants  to 
go  to  church,  and  this  could  scarcely  be  managed 
unless  the  rooms  were  vacated  at  an  earlier  hour 
than  usual.  So  the  gong  sounded  as  the  clock  in 
the  turret  struck  nine.  As  it  did  so,  Wilfred 
Lane  opened  the  door  of  the  gallery  which  led  on 
to  the  general  staircase  from  the  set  of  rooms  in 
which  his  own  was  situated  ;  and  Tiny  did  pre- 
cisely the  same  at  the  opposite  end.  Seeing  Wil- 
10* 


226  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

fred  she  ran  towards  him,  exclaiming  in  her  bright 
and  joyous  way — 

**The  top  of  the  morning  to  you,  Wil,  dear. 
Isn't  this  a  pleasant  house  ?  I  am  so  happy  here  ; 
now  you  have  come,  it's  perfect." 

''  I  think  you  made  yourself  very  comfortable 
before,"  replied  Wilfred,  with  a  shadow  of  cold- 
ness in  his  tone,  for  he  could  not  forget  last  night's 
episode  ;  it  had  rankled  in  his  mind  ever  since. 

'*  Now,  Mr.  Gravity,"  said  Tiny — linking  her- 
self on  his  arm  with  both  hands,  and  looking  up 
into  his  face,  with  an  expression  which  set  his  heart 
off  thumping  as  quickly  as  ever — **  you  don't  wish 
your  little  wife  to  be  as  sober  as  a  judge  before 
she  really  takes  upon  herself  the  fearful  responsi- 
bility of  keeping  you  in  order?  Come,  Wil,"  she 
added  in  a  pleading  voice,  which  touched  his  heart 
directly,  "  I  have  not  been  so  very  light-hearted 
lately,  that  you  need  reproach  me  because  my 
spirits  run  away  with  me  now  I  find  myself  with 
girls  of  my  own  age." 

The  gallery  door  opened  again  as  Tiny  spoke, 
and  Gertrude  and  Isabel  appeared ;  as  they 
greeted  one  another,  Wilfred  Lane  was  calling 
himself  hard  names,  for  his  want  of  generosity  in 
having  harbored  such  ill-conditioned  thoughts 
about  Tiny  ;  and,  in  his  genial  pleasant  manner, 
he  began  to  make  amends  for  it,  by  talking  to  the 
three  girls  as  they  went  down  the  stairs  together 
into  the  pleasant  breakfast   room  ;  which  looked 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Winei.  227 

cheerful  enough,  until  young  Macnaghten  thrust 
himself  into  the  very  seat  next  Tiny  which  Wilfred 
was  standing  by,  and  intended  to  occupy. 

The    facetious   conversation    which   ensued   an- 
noyed Wilfred  exceedingly.      He  had  seldom  seen 
Tiny  in  this  kind  of  mood  ;   and  it  was  so  infinitely 
below  the  rest  of  her  character,  that  it  grated  upon 
his  taste  and    sense    of  propriety.     Young    Mac- 
naghten's    noisy   mirth,    and   the    nonsense   they 
talked,  seemed  but  little  in   accordance   with  the 
quiet  Sunday  morning,  which  was  always  a  double 
rest,  in  the  country,  to  this  man  who  worked  half 
the  night,  as  well  as  all  the  day,  in  London.     Wil- 
fred Lane  made  it  a  rule,  from  which  he  seldom 
deviated,  to  keep  one  day  out  of  the  seven  clear 
from  the  working  atmosphere  of  the  rest  ;  and  as 
free  from  care  and  anxiety  as  he  could  make  it. 
Breathless  and  weary  with  the  labors  of  the  past 
week,  and  the  full  weight  of  the  world's  tempta- 
tions, he  had  looked  forward  to  this  special  day, 
as  one  from  which  he  should  gain  fresh  strength 
and   hope  ;    and  anything   more   discordant  than 
this  foolish  flippant  jesting  could  scarcely  be  con- 
ceived.     He  walked  round  the  table,  and  took  the 
vacant   seat   between    Gertrude    Drummond   and 
Mrs.  Wilmot ;  very  nearly  opposite  to  Tiny  and 
her  companion. 

Several  times  he  found  himself  looking  at  them 
with  positive  amazement ;  for  their  absurdity  was 
unredeemed  by  any  particular  wit  or  originality, 


228  A  Rccd  SJiaken  with  the  Wind. 

and  it  appeared  to  Wilfred  only  fit  for  the  nursery 
or  school-room. 

It  was  no  relief  to  see  that  the  Drummonds  were 
accustomed  to  this  stvle  of  behavior :  nor  was  he 
better  pleased  when  Mrs.  Wilmot  remarked  w^ith 
a  significant  nod,  **  What  a  charming  cousi.i  you 
have,  Mr.  Lane,  and  what  a  perfect  little  coquette  ! 
She  has  quite  turned  poor  Reginald  Macnaghten's 
head  ;  and  I  don't  think  she  really  means  to  be 
merciful  to  him  in  the  end." 

Wilfred  stammered  out  some  answer  about  Tiny's 
amazing  life  and  spirits,  and  her  extraordinary 
powers  of  attraction  ;  but  he  differed  from  Mrs. 
Wilmot  in  calling  her  a  coquette,  "■  for  any  one 
less  conscious  of  her  powers  of  fascination  he  never 
saw  ;  "  a  remark  which  considerably  diminished 
Mrs.  Wilmot's  respect  for  his  judgment,  and  some- 
what jarred  against  a  conviction  which  was  gaining 
strength  in  his  own  mind. 

As  the  church  was  at  some  little  distance,  the 
open  carriage  started  from  the  hall-door  at  half- 
past  ten  ;  and  those  who  liked  to  walk  followed 
rather  later,  as  they  could  take  a  short  cut  through 
the  shrubbery,  and  across  the  deer  park. 

Tiny  was  a  great  walker  ;  and,  a  few  minutes 
after  the  less  active  members  of  the  party  had 
driven  off,  she  appeared  with  Gertrude  and  IMrs. 
Wilmot.  They  were  at  once  joined  by  the  gentle- 
men who  had  made  up  their  minds  to  go  to 
church — a  resolution  which  was  confined  to  Wil- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  229 

fred,  Captain  Reynolds,  and  young  Macnaghten, 
whose  attraction  was  neither  the  service  nor  the 
sermon,  but  the  prospect  of  a  walk  with  Miss  Tiny 
Harewood. 

The  ladies  went  in  single  file  through  the  shrub- 
beries, and,  in  crossing  the  park,  they  were  all 
together,  so  the  conversation  was  pretty  evenly 
distributed  ;  and  the  fresh,  pleasant  country  air 
gave  Wilfred  such  a  sense  of  enjoyment,  that,  by 
the  time  they  reached  the  quaint  little  country 
church,  all  traces  of  annoyance  had  disappeared  ; 
his  eyes  were  resting  lovingly  upon  his  cousin, 
and  he  was  longing  for  the  time  when  her  acknowl- 
edged position  would  prevent  any  man  from  tak- 
ing the  shadow  of  a  liberty  with  one  who  had 
promised  to  love  and  honor  him  alone. 

The  pew  belonging  to  the  Castle  was  reached 
by  outer  steps,  which  led  into  a  comfortable 
square  room,  with  a  huge  fireplace  at  one  end, 
and  luxurious  arm-chairs  all  round.  It  was  no 
wonder  that  when  the  General  did  come  to 
church,  he  always  w^ent  fast  asleep  during  the 
second  lesson,  and  seldom  awoke  till  the  sermon 
was  ended  ;  even  Lady  Isabella  declared  that  the 
walls  of  Bellingham  Church  were  sown  with  poppy 
seed,  and  the  curate's  voice  was  *'  somnolent  and 
sleep-compelling. " 

Wilfred  hated  these  kind  of  pews  ;  they  seemed 
to  him  to  spoil  the  meaning  of  the  beautiful 
Church  Service,   which  calls  together   "rich    and 


230  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind, 

poor,  one  with  another,"  into  the  presence  of  their 
Maker,  as  brethren  in  this  world,  and  heirs 
together  of  one  blessed  home  in  the  world  to 
come. 

He  had  not  the  least  tendency  to  ritualism,  for 
he  could  not  endure  the  introduction  of  practices 
which  appeared  to  him  to  make  the  heart  sad  of 
those  whom  God  had  not  made  sad,  and  laid  bur- 
dens upon  men,  grievous  to  be  borne,  and  in- 
creased in  an  unnatural  manner  the  distance  be- 
tween the  soul  of  man  and  its  Maker. 

Perhaps  he  could  scarcely  be  called  a  good 
churchman  ;  though  he  belonged  to  the  Church  of 
England,  and  nothing  would  have  induced  him  to 
quit  her  communion,  for  he  loved  her  noble  Book 
of  Prayer,  which  is  so  catholic  and  so  comprehen- 
sive, and  so  much  in  advance  of  the  practice  of  the 
Church. 

He  liked,  too,  the  open  churches  and  their  free 
seats,  where  all  mingled  together  without  respect 
of  persons  ;  he  cared,  too,  that  the  music  should 
be  of  the  best  and  highest  description — such  as 
might  really  elevate  the  hearts  of  those  who 
wished  to  sing  to  the  honor  and  glory  of  God — 
and  it  always  grated  against  his  sense  of  the  fitness 
of  things,  when  he  heard  (as  you  yet  may  in  too 
many  English  country  churches)  the  hymn  given 
out  by  an  illiterate  clerk  (whose  mispronunciation 
would  spoil  the  best  words  which  were  ever  writ- 
ten), and  sung  by  a  congregation  who  neither  care 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  231 


nor  know  whether  they  keep   to  the  tune  they  at- 
tempt to  sing  or  not. 

The  service  on  the  morning  in  question  was 
very  well  performed  ;  the  chants  and  anthem  were 
sung  with  real  feeling  and  without  display ;  the 
prayers  were  read  by  a  curate,  who  was  devout 
without  being  unctuous  ;  and  the  hymn — 

**  Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
Nearer  to  Thee, 
E'en  though  it  be  a  cross 


That  raiseth  me — ' ' 

which  preceded  the  sermon,  was  a  special  favor- 
ite, and  one  which  often  came  back  to  Wilfred  in 
after  days,  when  he  remembered  the  quiet  service 
in  this  little  country  church. 

The  sermon  was  preached  by  a  stranger,  and 
addressed  particularly  to  the  younger  members  of 
the  congregation,  who  were  preparing  for  confir- 
mation. The  preacher  warned  them  that  they 
had  in  a  special  sense  their  choice  to  make,  and 
that  the  complexion  of  their  after  life  depended 
very  much  upon  the  line  of  conduct  they  adopted 
during  this  period — not  because  their  younger 
days  were  likely  to  be  more  sinful  than  those  of 
after  life,  for  each  time  had  its  special  sins,  and 
perhaps  the  less  prominent  sins  of  later  years  are 
even  more  hateful  in  the  sight  of  God. 

He  implored  the  young  men  who  were  present, 
to  believe  that  the  enemies  of  their  souls  were  real 


232  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

and  very  deadly;  that  "  the  world  is  an  enemy, 
with  its  temptation  to  set  the  affections  on  things 
beneath,  not  on  things  above  ;  to  have  the  mind 
choked  up  by  worldly  ambitions — the  eyes  daz- 
zled with  the  sight  of  the  kingdoms  of  this  world 
and  the  glory  of  them — a  temptation  of  which 
every  middle-aged  man  in  that  church  would  con- 
fess the  power,  and  of  which  perhaps  nearly  each 
had  experienced  the  danger." 

"  The  flesh,"  he  continued,  with  increased 
earnestness,  **is  a  real  enemy,  and  an  enemy  in 
the  camp  ;  one,  moreover,  which  will  assail  us 
under  the  most  insinuating  disguises,  and  which 
finds  special  strength  and  support  in  the  ardent 
temperament  of  young  blood.  The  devil,  too,  is 
a  real  enemy — never  believe  that  the  devil  is  a  fic- 
tion, but  regard  him  as  the  most  awful  of  facts. 
Here,  then,  I  say,  are  real  enemies,  and  who  shall 
overestimate  their  power  ?  Young  men  and 
women  !  These  are  terrible  enemies  if  any  there 
be  ;  and  that  was  God's  truth  in  which  you  were 
baptized,  where  you  were  pledged  with  the  sign 
of  Christ's  cross  to  fight  against  them.  And 
what  I  desire  to  impress  upon  you  is,  that  you 
can  only  fight  successfully  by  ruling  yourselves 
according  to  the  Word  of  God.  Let  me  beg  of 
you  to  mark  those  words,  ruling  yourselves — im- 
plying, as  I  conceive,  that  constant  drill  which 
makes  the  soldier — constant  discipline — constant 
energy  in  doing  good — not  implying  a  few  good 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  233 

resolutions  now  and  then — not  implying  mere 
religious  fits  ;  fits  of  exercise  never  yet  made  a 
soldier,  and  fits  of  religious  feelings  will  never 
make  a  soldier  of  Christ." 

When  they  came  out  of  church,  Wilfred  Lane 
felt  but  little  disposed  to  talk.  Several  words  in 
the  sermon  had  come  home  to  him  with  such 
power,  that  he  was  unable  to  shake  off  the 
thoughts  they  brought  as  soon  as  he  crossed  the 
church  portal. 

But  he  was  obliged,  like  Felix,  to  put  them 
aside  for  "  a  more  convenient  season,"  and  to  help 
the  ladies  with  their  sundry  wraps  and  books  into 
the  carriage,  which  was  waiting  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  churchyard — then  he  joined  the  walkers. 

Though  he  took  no  share  in  the  conversation  on 
the  way  home,  it  disturbed  and  distracted  him. 

"  Now,  that  is  a  nice  kind  of  sermon,"  said  the 
sprightly  little  widow;  ''I  can't  bear  all  those 
long  discourses  about  *  predestination  '  and  *  bap- 
tismal regeneration.'  " 

**  No,"  said  Captain  Reynolds;  "those  are 
things,  as  Lord  Dundreary  would  say,  *no  feller 
can  be  expected  to  understand.'  " 

"  Well — I  liked  it,  because  it  was  short,"  said 
Gertrude;  "Mr.  Williamson  sometimes  preaches 
for  an  hour,  and  by  the  time  I  come  out  of  church 
I  have  forgotten  even  the  text  he  began  with." 

"You  would  like  to  have  'sat  under'  Peter 
Pindar,    perhaps  ;  "     exclaimed     Reginald     Mac- 


234  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

naghten — eagerly  seizing  the  opportunity  of 
bringing  in  a  favorite  story  of  his,  which  he 
never  lost  the  chance  of  telling,  since  he  heard  it 
two  years  before.  "  Did  you  ever  hear,  Miss 
Harewood,  of  a  sermon  preached  by  that  cele- 
brated divine  on  the  text  '  Man  is  born  to  trouble 
as  the  sparks  fly  upwards  '  ?  " 

Tiny  said  she  had  not ;  so  he  continued — 
"  Well,  if  you  don't  know  it,  and  it  isn't  long,  I 
must  repeat  it  to  you.  '  Dearly  beloved  brethren  ; 
I  am  going  to  preach  to-day  from  the  verse  "  Man 
is  born  to  trouble  as  the  sparks  fly  upwards,"  and 
I  shall  divide  my  sermon  into  three  heads  : 

'*  *  I.      Man's  ingress  into  the  world. 

"  '  II.      Man's  progress  through  the  world. 

*'  *  III.      Man's  egress  out  of  the  world. 

"  '  I.  Man's  ingress  into  the  world — naked  and 
bare.  II.  Man's  progress  through  the  world — 
trouble  and  care.  III.  Man's  egress  out  of  the 
world — no  one  knows  where  ;  and  if  I  were  to 
preach  for  a  year  I  could  tell  you  nothing  more — 
so  now — Amen.'  " 

Of  course,  every  one  laughed  when  Mr.  Mac- 
naghten  concluded,  and  Peter  Pindar's  point  and 
brevity  were  duly  appreciated.  But,  when  Mrs. 
Wilmot  proceeded  to  remark  upon  the  profanity 
attributed  to  that  departed  worthy.  Tiny,  watch- 
ing her  opportunity,  slipped  away  from  the  others 
to  join  Wilfred,  who  was  walking  a  little  apart 
from  the  rest. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  235 

Gradually  they  fell  behind,  and  began  to  talk 
of  what  was  uppermost  in  both  their  minds. 

Tiny,  too,  had  listened  to  the  sermon,  and  it 
had  made  its  impression  on  her  ;  for  the  moment 
she  felt  forced  to  acknowledge  that  the  power  of 
ruling  herself  was  precisely  Vv'hat  she  most  needed. 
She  had  a  wonderful  way  of  analyzing  her  own 
character,  and  of  seeing  its  defects,  but  there  she 
stopped.  Sometimes,  indeed,  she  made  a  few 
valiant  resolutions,  but  the  first  temptation  put 
them  all  to  flight.  Changeable  in  temperament, 
she  often  seemed  worse  and  often  better  than  she 
really  was  ;  but  her  unsteadiness  in  the  small  mat- 
ters of  life,  and  her  want  of  ballast,  undermined 
her  good  intentions  before  she  was  aware  of  it. 
When  Tiny  Harewood  was  a  few  years  younger, 
Wilfred  used  to  say  of  her  that  she  was  like  "  Mil- 
ton's Eve,  the  type  of  the  masculine  standard  of 
perfection  in  women  ;  a  graceful  figure,  an  abund- 
ance of  fine  hair,  much  coy  submission,  and  such 
a  degree  of  unreasoning  wilfulness  as  shall  risk 
perdition." 

There  was  only  one  point  to  which  Tiny  re- 
mained constant — her  affection  for  Wilfred.  This, 
she  protested,  was  based  upon  the  deeper  part  of 
her  mind  ;  his  love  was  essential  to  her. 

At  the  time  of  their  first  separation  she  had 
been  so  long  under  Wilfred's  immediate  influence, 
that  she  continued  to  live  in  the  atmosphere  of  the 
high    and  noble    thoughts    and  interests  he   was 


236  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wmd. 

gradually  developing  in  her.  But,  on  her  return 
to  London,  the  difficulty  of  her  position  with  Wil- 
fred, and  the  want  of  an  elevated  tone  in  her 
mother's  house,  added  to  her  own  love  of  per- 
petual "change,"  kept  fallow  a  soil  which  Nature 
had  endowed  with  her  richest  gifts.  Tiny's  good 
aspirations  were  at  first  allowed  to  rove  at  large, 
and  finally  devoted  to  vanity  and  frivolity,  until 
her  whole  being  succumbed  to  the  first  temptation 
which  assailed  her.  In  the  present  instance  this 
met  her  in  the  form  of  a  flirtation  with  a  lively 
young  man,  over  whom  she  consciously  exerted 
her  power  in  a  way  which  she  knew  to  be  un- 
worthy of  her  better  self,  and  inconsistent  with 
her  position  with  Wilfred  Lane. 

The  sermon  to-day  had  aroused  her  to  a  fresh 
sense  of  this ;  and  when  she  came  up  to  her 
cousin  and  took  his  arm,  she  did  so  with  a  firm 
resolution  to  alter  her  manner  towards  Reginald 
Macnaghten  from  that  very  moment.  But  she  did 
not  feel  disposed  to  own  as  much  as  this  to  Wil- 
fred, not  even  when  he  expressed  his  annoyance 
at  the  foolish  bantering  tone  she  allowed  Mac- 
naghten to  assume,  which  was  so  ill  in  keeping 
with  the  tie  existing  between  them.  Tiny  felt  the 
justice  of  his  reproof;  but  her  wilful  little  spirit 
rebelled  against  his  plain  unvarnished  condemna- 
tion of  her  conduct ;  and  she  resented  his  express- 
ing the  very  thoughts  which  were  passing  through 
her  own  mind. 


A  Reed  Shaken  zvith  the  Wind.  237 

Wilfred  Lane's  patience  and  tenderness  over 
Tiny's  waywardness  about  Captain  Foy  had  been 
unbounded  ;  but  this  was  a  very  different  sort 
of  thing,  and  he  gave  Tiny  to  understand  he 
would  by  no  means  tolerate  it. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

"  Right  thro'  his  manful  breast  darted  the  pang 
That  makes  a  man,  in  the  sweet  face  of  her 
Whom  he  loves  most,  lonely  and  miserable." 

Idylls  of  the  King. 

Tiny  Hare  WOODwas  extremely  quiet  through- 
out the  whole  of  luncheon.  She  was  either  con- 
vinced by  what  Wilfred  had  said,  or  else,  having 
found  the  censure  already  administered  exceed- 
ingly unpalatable,  she  feared  to  provoke  another. 
Her  conscience  told  her  how  little  Wilfred  knew 
all  that  had  taken  place,  and  how  thoroughly 
she  deserved  his  condemnation. 

Of  course  this  alteration  in  Tiny's  behavior  was 
not  lost  on  Mr.  Macnaghten.  Nor  was  he  back- 
ward in  attributing  it  to  the  interference  of  that 
'*  conceited  prig  of  a  cousin,  who  Avas  so  dull  and 
morose  himself  that  he  hated  to  see  other  people 
jolly  enough  to  enjoy  themselves."  And  the 
young  Lieutenant  registered  a  vow  that  if  ever 
Miss  Tiny  Harewood  became  "  Mrs.  Reginald 
Macnaghten,"  as  he  fondly  believed  she  ultimately 
would,  that  ''  kill-joy-fellow  "  should  never  darken 
his    doors,     if    he    could    help    it.      He    glanced 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  239 

fiercely  at  Mr.  Lane,  longing  to  deliver  Tiny  out 
of  his  clutches. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Wilfred  did  not 
appear  at  this  moment  to  advantage  at  Bellingham 
Castle.  Naturally  of  an  easy  and  genial  temper- 
ament, his  friends  were  surprised  at  a  taciturn  and 
crude  manner  most  unusual  to  him.  His  disap- 
proval of  the  intimacy  between  Tiny  and  Mr.  Mac- 
naghten  was  evident  to  the  Drummonds  ;  but, 
being  ignorant  of  the  real  tie  between  the  cousins, 
they  were  unable  to  understand  his  conduct,  and 
felt  inclined  to  resent  it  as  most  unreasonable. 

Never  had  an  exhortation  to  ''rule  himself" 
come  at  a  more  seasonable  time  to  Wilfred  ;  for 
he  felt  very  angry  with  Tiny,  exceedingly  sore 
with  Reginald  Macnaghten,  and  hurt  at  the  suspi- 
cions entertained  by  his  friends. 

When  Tiny  made  him  miserable  on  board  the 
yacht,  there  was  a  depth  and  earnestness  about 
the  matter  which  drew  out  the  finer  parts  of  her 
character  and  claimed  a  certain  kind  of  respect. 
In  the  present  instance,  however,  Wilfred  had 
a  very  different  sort  of  feeling,  in  which  respect 
did  not  mingle  in  the  least. 

There  was  something  so  peculiarly  aggressive  in 
Macnaghten's  manner  towards  himself  personally, 
that  Wilfred  almost  lost  sight  of  the  fact  that 
the  young  man  was  unconsciously  injuring  him  by 
his  attentions  to  his  affianced  wife  ;  and  perhaps 
Wilfred   did   not  care   to   open   his   eyes   to  what 


240  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

made   Tiny's    share   in   the   blame   so    much   the 
heavier. 

Lady  Isabella  Drummond  next  came  in  for  a 
share  of  his  displeasure.  He  thought  her  wrong 
to  countenance  her  nephew's  open  admiration  of  a 
young  guest  left  completely  under  her  protection. 
The  least  she  could  have  done  would  have  been 
to  compel  Reginald  to  cease  from  making  a  con- 
spicuous display  of  his  feeling  for  Tiny :  and, 
as  these  thoughts  passed  through  his  mind,  he  be- 
came moody  and  silent. 

When  he  had  finished  blaming  the  whole  party, 
he  began  to  condemn  himself ;  for  he  was  fond  of 
the  Drummonds,  and  hated  himself  for  having 
hard  thoughts  of  the  people  by  whom  he  was 
surrounded,  and  of  whose  hospitality  he  was  par- 
taking. 

Finding  Tiny  surrounded  by  the  girls  in  the 
drawing-room  after  luncheon,  he  resolved  to  go 
for  a  long  walk.  He  was  indisposed  for  any 
company  but  his  own,  and  hoped  that  exercise 
might  disperse  the  ill-conditioned  state  of  mind 
in  which  he  found  himself  So  off  he  started, 
unobserved  by  any  one ;  thinking  of  Tiny  the 
whole  time,  he  paid  no  heed  to  the  direction  he 
took,  and  walked  so  far  that  the  first  bell  had 
already  rung  when  he  returned,  and  there  was 
scarcely  time  to  dress  for  dinner. 

Tiny,  too,  had  been  revolving  matters  in  her 
own    mind,  during  the  short  time   she  had  been 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  241 

alone.  But  first  of  all  she  had  accompanied  the 
old  General  and  his  daughters  to  the  stables, 
where  the  horses  were  duly  inspected,  according 
to  the  regular  Sunday-afternoon  practice,  and  a 
piece  of  sugar  administered  to  each  with  scrupu- 
lous impartiality.  Then  they  made  the  tour  of 
the  kitchen  gardens  and  forcing  houses  ;  after 
which  Tiny  Harewood  retired  with  Gertrude  and 
heard  certain  confidences  touching  Horace  Alvan- 
ley,  who  had  been  for  some  time  paying  her  very 
marked  attention. 

It  was  wonderful,  considering  the  frank  and  open 
manner  Tiny  possessed,  to  see  how  very  closely 
she  could  keep  her  own  concerns  to  herself,  while 
she  gave  people  the  impression  of  always  saying 
whatever  was  passing  in  her  mind.  Tiny  never 
allowed  a  human  being  to  know  her  one  bit  more 
intimately  than  she  thought  convenient ;  and  on 
this  occasion  she  considered  it  was  better  for  her 
friends  to  know  nothing  of  her  engagement  to 
Wilfred  Lane.  She  even  allowed  Gertrude  to  re- 
mark how  much  more  self-engrossed  Wilfred  ap- 
peared, and  how  far  less  agreeable  he  was  than 
usual,  and  still  refrained  from  giving  her  friend  the 
key  to  her  cousin's  conduct. 

At  the  same  time,  next  to  feeling  out  of  conceit 
with  herself,  she  was  really  vexed  at  the  unfavora- 
ble impression  Wilfred  was  making  upon  every- 
body ;  but  she  was  selfish  enough  to  be  still  more 
sore  with  his  plain  condemnation  of  her  own  con- 
11 


242  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wmd. 

duct,  and  not  at  all  disposed  to  overlook  his  ab- 
senting himself  the  whole  afternoon  ;  this  she 
regarded  as  a  great  slight  to  herself,  and  exceed- 
ingly rude  to  everybody. 

Tiny  went  down  to  dinner  with  a  wicked  little 
demon  sitting  in  the  coils  of  her  beautiful  hair, 
prompting  her  to  all  kinds  of  extravagance,  with 
plausible  reasons  attached  to  each.  If  she  altered 
her  manner  to  Reginald  while  Wilfred  was  in  the 
house,  it  suggested  she  would  make  matters  infin- 
itely worse  ;  not  only  would  every  one  accuse  her 
of  fearing  her  cousin,  but  they  would  attribute  to 
her  conduct  a  greater  degree  of  blame  than  she 
considered  it  deserved  ;  or  else  Wilfred  would  be 
placed  in  the  odious  position  of  a  marplot.  Next 
the  little  demon  whispered  that,  by  making  her- 
self doubly  agreeable,  she  would  not  only  atone 
for  Wilfred's  behavior,  but  divert  attention  from 
him  by  directing  it  to  herself. 

While  the  servants  were  in  the  room  things 
went  on  pretty  quietly  ;  but  at  dessert  Tiny  as- 
tonished them  all,  and  yet  was  so  exceedingly 
original  and  daring  that  it  was  impossible  for  any 
one  but  Wilfred  to  refrain  from  laughing. 

After  dinner,  the  gentlemen  adjourned  to  the 
smoking  room  ;  for,  a  long  Sunday  evening, 
without  whist  or  music,  induced  them  to  postpone 
their  entrance  into  the  drawing-room  to  an  unusu- 
ally late  hour. 

Lady  Isabella  objected   to  music  on  a  Sunday, 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  243 

because  her  mother  had  done  so  before  her  ;  and 
the  girls  had  tried  in  vain  to  introduce  sacred 
music  by  Handel  and  Mozart,  which  would  not 
only  have  relieved  the  tedium  of  those  evenings, 
but  might  have  supplied  the  very  spiritual  element 
of  which  they  were  so  sadly  destitute. 

When  Wilfred  entered  the  drawing-room,  about 
half-past  nine  o'clock,  he  found  Tiny  and  Mr. 
Macnaghten  seated  on  a  sofa,  with  a  large  photo- 
graph book  into  which  they  were  looking  ;  or 
rather,  behind  which  they  were  talking. 

Tiny  looked  uncomfortable  when  she  saw  the 
expression  of  her  cousin's  face  ;  and  this  was  im- 
mediately attributed  by  Reginald  to  her  imagined 
fear  of  Lane,  who  appeared  to  him  to  act  the 
mentor  over  her  in  a  most  unwarrantable  manner. 

"You  seem  very  much  afraid  of  Mr.  Secretary 
Lane,"  said  Reginald,  while  pretending  to  look 
at  another  page  ;  "for  my  part  I  hate  fellows  who 
think  such  a  lot  of  themselves,  and  interfere  with 
other  people's  affairs." 

"  Indeed,  I'm  not  in  the  least  afraid  of  him. 
Wilfred  is  the  best  creature  in  the  world,"  she 
added  ;  coming,  with  a  true  woman's  instinct,  to  the 
defence  of  the  man  she  loved  directly  any  one 
attacked  him. 

This  did  not  mitigate  Macnaghten's  wrath,  and 
he  ventured  on  another  depreciatory  remark,  which 
Tiny  effectually  silenced  by  rising  from  her  seat 
and  saying  she  did  not  care  to  look  at  any  more 


244  ^  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

photographs.     She  went  to  Wilfred,  and  in  a  low 
voice  asked  him  not  to  look  so  cross. 

Wilfred  was  conscious  of  feeling  exceedingly 
savage.  He  was  indignant  with  Tiny  for  raising 
up,  in  his  own  nature,  passions  he  heartily  de- 
spised— and  he  was  rendered  still  more  angry, 
when,  in  answer  to  the  reply  he  made  her,  Tiny 
told  him  that  the  whole  thing  arose  from  his  being 
"  so  ridiculously  jealous  and  disagreeable  to  the 
poor  boy,  that  she  was  forced  to  be  extra  kind 
and  amiable  to  make  up  for  his  want  of  manners." 

A  stronger  expression  and  nearer  to  an  oath 
than  Wilfred  Lane  was  at  all  in  the  habit  of  using, 
escaped  from  his  lips,  as  Tiny  uttered  this  mean 
and  ungenerous  subterfuge. 

Bound  by  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  his 
promise  to  Lady  Harewood,  he  was  forced  to  ac- 
cept one  of  the  most  intolerable  positions  in  which 
any  one  can  be  placed. 

No  honorable  man  could  stand  quietly  by,  and 
see  the  girl  to  whom  he  is  pledged  suffer  another 
to  approach  her  with  attentions  which  would  not 
be  offered  her  as  his  wife.  The  verv  concealment 
of  the  tie  between  them  only  made  it  more  wrong 
of  Tiny  to  take  advantage  of  such  a  position.  It 
was  for  her  to  check  Macnaghten's  advances,  not 
to  encourage  them  as  if  she  were  free  to  receive  all 
he  might  feel  disposed  to  offer. 

The  long-suffering  that  Wilfred  had  shown  in 
the   matter   of  Captain    Foy,  only  made   him  less 


A  Reed  SJiakeii  ivith  the  Wind,  245 

inclined  to  take  a  lenient  view  of  Tiny's  present 
conduct.  She  ought  to  have  learnt  from  her  own 
sorrow  something  of  the  pain  she  had  inflicted 
upon  him  ;  and  when  her  feeling  for  Captain  Foy 
ceased,  and  she  refused  to  accept  the  freedom  Wil- 
fred had  pressed  upon  her,  he  felt  he  had  a  right 
to  expect  that  this  girl — for  whose  love  he  had 
waited  so  patiently  and  for  whom  he  had  suffered 
so  much — should  cleave  to  him  with  her  whole 
heart  and  soul.  To  find  her  amusing  herself  by  a 
flirtation  with  Reginald  Macnaghten  thoroughly 
roused  his  indignation ;  and,  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life,  Wilfred  I.ane  was  not  only  angry  with 
Tiny,  but  a  shadow  of  disgust  crept  into  the  feeling 
with  which  he  had  hitherto  regarded  her.  As  he 
stood,  apparently  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a 
book  which  lay  on  the  table  beside  him,  his  whole 
soul  was  in  a  tumult — 

*'  For,  to  be  wroth  with  one  we  love, 
Doth  work  like  madness  on  the  brain." 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

"People  who  love  downy  peaches  are  not  apt  to  think  of  the 
stone,  and  sometimes  jar  their  teeth  terribly  against  it. 

George  Eliot. 

When  Tiny  came  down  to  breakfast  the  next 
morning  she  found  to  her  amazement  that  Wilfred 
had  already  left  for  London. 

Late  on  the  previous  night,  while  smoking  with 
General  Drummond,  he  suddenly  remembered 
some  important  papers  which  required  to  be  de- 
spatched without  delay.  Never  suspecting  Wil- 
fred's real  motive,  the  General  proposed  to  send  a 
telegram  ;  but  on  Wilfred's  assurance  that  no  one 
could  find  the  despatches  but  himself,  it  was  ar- 
ranged that  the  dog-cart  should  be  ready  at  eight 
o'clock,  in  time  to  catch  the  morning  express  at 
Farnham. 

So,  while  Tiny  slept,  Wilfred  was  taking  his  sol- 
itary breakfast ;  and  the  noise  which  awoke  her, 
and  for  which  she  could  not  account,  was  made  by 
the  wheels  of  the  dog-cart  which  carried  him  rap- 
idly away  over  the  fresh  gravel-path  under  her 
bedroom  window. 

Wilfred  Lane  had  passed  a  restless  night.     He 


A  Rccd  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  247 

could  not  shut  his  eyes  to  the  impropriety  of  Tiny's 
manner.  It  was  a  new  development,  for  which  he 
was  totally  unprepared.  In  the  midst  of  what  he 
had  suffered  about  Captain  Foy,  he  had  been  sus- 
tained by  the  belief,  that  when  once  Tiny  re- 
covered from  her  glamour  all  her  affections  would 
return  to  himself.  He  knew  that  she  could  neither 
mistake  nor  doubt  his  entire  devotion  to  her. 
This  pure  and  true  love  had  utterly  effaced  the 
fevered  and  troubled  passion  of  his  youth,  and 
Wilfred  had  not  a  thought  apart  from  Tiny. 

Her  love  was  his  very  life.  She  had  entwined 
herself  so  completely  around  his  whole  being,  that 
the  world  was  to  him  Tiny — and  Tiny  was  the  world. 

He  realized  that  their  position  was  a  difficult 
one  ;  a  secret  understanding  must  always  be  such  ; 
and  fearing  that  his  presence  hampered  her,  he  re- 
solved to  leave  the  Castle  without  seeing  her. 
One  thing  was  obvious  ;  it  was  high  time  Tiny 
should  abstain  of  her  own  free  will  from  actions 
which  the  commonest  sense  of  right  and  wrong 
condemned.  If  she  could  flirt  with  the  first  man 
into  whose  society  she  was  intimately  thrown  after 
her  feeling  for  Foy  subsided,  Wilfred  felt  the  love 
she  professed  to  give  him  unworthy  of  his  accept- 
ance. His  holding  her  to  their  mutual  promise 
would  only  sooner  or  later  bring  about  a  calamity 
to  both.  At  present  there  was  time  for  Tiny  ;  no 
one  knew  of  the  tie  between  them. 

When  General  Drummond  told  Miss  Tiny  Hare- 


248  A  Reed  Shake7t  with  the  Wind. 

wood,  as  she  sat  down  to  breakfast,  of  Wilfred's 
departure,  tlrat  young  lady  was,  for  one  moment, 
disconcerted  ;  but,  seeing  Mr.  Macnaghten's  eyes 
fixed  upon  her,  with  a  presence  of  mind  worthy  of 
a  better  cause  she  carelessly  observed  that  her 
cousin  had  told  her  on  their  way  from  church  that 
he  feared  he  should  be  forced  to  leave  early  the 
next  morning. 

Lady  Isabella  was  just  about  to  say  she  under- 
stood that  Wilfred  had  only  remembered  these 
papers  late  on  the  preceding  night,  when  some- 
thing inTiny's  face  arrested  the  words  on  her  lips  ; 
and,  as  Gertrude  at  that  moment  began  to  discuss 
a  letter  just  received  from  Dublin,  the  conversa- 
tion was  fortunately  turned  into  another  channel. 

As  soon  as  Tiny  got  back  to  her  own  room,  this 
strange  little  damsel  gave  vent  to  her  disappoint- 
ment;  and,  after  crying  for  a  good  half  hour, 
opened  her  writing-case,  and,  taking  out  a  sheet 
of  foreign  letter  paper,  wrote  as  follows  : 

"  Oh  !  Wil,  I  am  so  thoroughly  ashamed  of 
myself;  do  forgive  me  this  once  for  making  you 
angry,  and  I  will  never  do  so  again.  I  am  utterly 
miserable,  and  I  think  you  have  punished  me  very 
cruelly  by  going  away  without  saying  one  word  to 
me.  I  don't  know  how  this  state  of  things  came 
about,  and  I  look  upon  the  whole  affair  as  so  curi- 
ous that  I  don't  understand  myself  in  the  least.  I 
frankly  confess  that  I  have  given  way  to  my  old 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  249 

wicked  spirit,  and  I  know  your  confidence  in  me 
is  completely  shaken. 

"  But  is  it  not  better,  Wil,  for  you  to  know 
me  as  I  really  am  ?  You  cannot  help  and 
guide  me,  if  you  do  not.  I  think  one  of  your 
highest  points  is  your  entire  belief  in  those  you 
love  ;  but  you  never  can  be  sufficient  or  good 
for  a  person,  if  you  are  blind  to  their  faults.  And 
the  sort  of  life  I  am  leading,  away  from  you,  is  so 
bad  for  my  disposition,  that  you  ought  to  pity, 
rather  than  to  blame  me.  You  will  find  that  I 
shall  be  quite  different  after  June  ;  and  you  don't 
know  how  intensely  I  long  for  the  time  when  we 
shall  be  always  together.  Have  patience  till  then, 
with  this  little  girl  you  have  made  so  miserable  to- 
day. I  would  rather  you  should  write  me  vol- 
umes of  scoldings,  than  have  thoughts  of  which 
you  will  not  tell  me.  Believe  me,  Wil,  as  you 
love  me,  the  hope  of  our  future  life  together  is  the 
most  precious  thing  in  the  world  to  me,  for  I  feel 
my  life  fast  clinging  round  yours.  It  would  in- 
deed be  a  terrible  wrench  to  break  it  asunder  now. 
So  don't  punish  me  any  more  for  what  has  really 
been  a  foolish  piece  of  nonsense,  of  which  I  am 
heartily  ashamed.  I  don't  know  how  it  all  came 
about ;  I  suppose  it  was  through  this  odious  play, 
which  I  now  hate  and  detest.  Shall  I  throw  it 
up  ?  Write  by  return  of  post  ;  for  if  you  don't 
like  me  to  act,  I  will   give  up  my  part  at  once. 

Oh,  Wil,  I  am   so   wretched  !     I   think  I  scarcely 
11* 


250  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

deserved  such  a  severe  punishment  after  all.  I 
shall  not  have  a  moment's  peace  till  I  hear  you 
have  really  forgiven 

**  Your  penitent  little 

*'TiNY." 

What  could  Wilfred  say  when  he  received  this 
letter  ?  Poor  infatuated  fellow !  He  began  to 
agree  with  Tiny,  and  to  think  he  need  not  have 
left  the  Castle  so  hastily.  The  foolish  nonsense 
between  Tiny  and  Macnaghten  had  by  no  means 
deserved  such  a  severe  measure.  After  all,  it  was 
that  noisy  young  man  who  was  really  to  blame — 
it  was  his  conduct  which  had  drawn  every  one's  at- 
tention to  Tiny  ;  and  Wilfred,  instead  of  letting 
his  wrath  fall  on  the  right  object,  had  deprived 
himself  of  the  day  in  the  country  to  which  he  had 
looked  forward  with  such  pleasure,  and  made  his 
poor  little  Tiny  wretched  as  well. 

He  was  clearly  a  stupid  blundering  idiot,  and 
unable  to  fathom  the  mysterious  depths  of  a 
woman's  delicate  nature  ! 

He  sat  down  and  wrote  to  Tiny,  and  begged  her 
not  to  give  up  the  play.  He  confessed  he  had 
left,  because  his  private  relationship  with  her 
made  it  impossible  for  him  either  to  witness  or 
prevent  the  attentions  another  man  chose  to  pay 
her.  He  thought  she  had  been  wrong  to  allow 
Macnaghten  to  assume  such  a  footing  with  her  ; 
but  he  could  not  doubt  her  real  fidelity  to  himself 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  251 

after  the  letter  he  had  just  received.  *'  At  the 
same  time,"  he  added,  "it  seems  to  me,  Tiny, 
that,  lacking  as  we  do  the  public  acknowledgments 
and  safeguards  which  such  ties  as  ours  generally 
receive  in  the  world,  we  are  doubly  bound  to 
cherish  our  private  position,  and  to  remember  the 
duties  wc  owe  to  each  other." 

Before  Tiny  received  this  answer,  she  was  evi 
dently  anxious  and  depressed  ;  and  discomfited 
the  young  Guardsman  not  a  little  by  the  snubs  she 
administered  whenever  he  attempted  to  resume  the 
old  familiarities  she  had  allowed  before  her  cousin's 
visit.  Once  assured  of  Wilfred's  forgiveness,  Tiny 
soon  recovered  her  spirits,  and,  with  them,  her 
dislike  of  appearing  disagreeable  to  any  one  ;  and, 
as  it  was  obviously  disagreeable  to  Mr.  Reginald 
Macnaghten  to  be  checked  in  his  advances.  Tiny 
soon  permitted  them  as  freely  as  before. 

The  play  went  off  gloriously  ;  and  on  the  after- 
noon of  the  second  performance  Lady  Harewood 
and  her  two  daughters  arrived. 

Tiny  acted  her  part  to  perfection,  for,  in  truth, 
the  character  of  Helen  in  Sheridan  Knowles' 
*'  Hunchback  "  exactly  suited  her. 

Her  sisters,  who  were  in  total  ignorance  of  the 
flirtation  with  Reginald  Macnaghten,  noticed  the 
peculiar  look  exchanged  between  them  on  the 
stage,  when  the  latter,  as  Modus y  exclaims : 

**  Your  hand  upon  it  !  " 


252  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

And  Tiny  answers  : 

**  Hand  and  heart. 
Hie  to  thy  dressing-room,  and  I'll  to  mine. 
Attire  thee  for  the  altar — so  will  I, 
Whoe'er  may  claim  me,  thou'rt  the  man  shall  have  me." 

Encouraged  by  that  glance,  and  Tiny's  excited 
manner,  Reginald  induced  her,  later  in  the  even- 
ing, to  throw  an  opera  cloak  over  her  shoulders, 
and  to  come  on  to  the  terrace,  away  from  the 
crowded  and  heated  rooms. 

The  night  was  cold  and  clear,  for  the  moon  was 
at  the  full,  and  every  little  blade  of  grass  could  be 
seen  as  plainly  as  at  noonday.  They  walked 
slowly  to  the  end  of  the  terrace,  and  then  Regi- 
nald insisted  on  sitting  down  for  one  moment  in 
the  summer-house,  which  commanded  a  fine  view 
of  the  exquisite  landscape  before  them.  Every- 
thing looked  so  lovely  and  mysterious  in  the 
moonlight,  that  Tiny's  senses  were  quite  be- 
witched. 

There  was  something  in  Reginald's  manner 
which  told  her  that  it  was  impossible  to  escape  the 
inevitable  explanation.  '*  Under  all  the  circum- 
stances," thought  Tiny,  '*  would  it  not  be  better 
to  have  it  over  at  once  ?  " 

She  had  not  long  to  wait  before  he  told  her  how 
he  loved  her,  and  entreated  her  to  be  his  wife ;  and 
without  waiting  for  any  answer,  the  impetuous 
young  man  put  his  arms  round  her  and  kissed  her 
passionately. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  253 

''  Stay,  Mr.  Macnaghten,"  cried  Tiny,  disengag- 
ing herself  as  best  she  could  ;  "you  have  quite 
mistaken  me.  I  thought  you  understood  me  bet- 
ter than  to  do  this.  I  have  often  said  enough  to 
make  you  know  that  we  could  never  be  anything 
but  friends  ;  and  if  you  do  not  control  yourself,  I 
shall  feel  very  angry.  It  is  unmanly  of  you,"  she 
continued,  hastily  springing  up  from  her  seat,  and 
getting  out  of  the  summer-house  on  to  the  terrace, 
where  the  moonlight  seemed  to  offer  her  some 
protection,  **  to  abuse  my  confidence  by  such  con- 
duct.     I  feel  very  angry  with  you,  indeed  I  do." 

If  Tiny  had  said  *'  very  frightened  of  you  "  it 
would  have  better  expressed  her  meaning,  for 
Reginald's  violence  had  positively  alarmed  her. 

He  had  felt  so  sure  of  a  different  answer,  and 
was  so  excited  by  the  acting  and  various  glasses 
of  champagne  imbibed  between  the  scenes,  that 
Tiny's  rebuff  fairly  staggered  him.  The  way  in 
which  she  had  acted  the  part  of  Helen  was  so  real 
and  lifelike,  that  he  had  allowed  himself  to  be  car- 
ried away  by  the  notion  that,  if  an  engagement 
existed  (of  which  he  had  some  dim  surmise)  be- 
tween herself  and  that  grave  cousin.  Tiny  was 
ready  to  throw  it  over  for  his  sake,  and  meant  him 
to  understand  this,  when  she  exclaimed  with  so 
much  significance — 

"  Whoe'er  may  claim  me,  thou'rt  the  man  shall  have  me." 

Stammering  out  an  apology,  Reginald  declared 


254  ^  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

he  was  so  excited,  he  was  more  Hke  a  madman 
than  anything  else  that  night. 

"Well  then,"  said  Tiny,  feeling  more  secure 
as  they  neared  the  little  side  door,  through  which 
they  had  made  their  exit  from  the  ball-room,  "  let 
us  consider  that  your  temporary  fit  of  insanity  is 
over,  and  do  not  let  this  subject  ever  be  resumed." 

He  was  on  the  point  of  speaking,  when  Tiny 
stopped  him  by  saying,  in  a  gentler  voice,  ''  I  am 
sorry  to  pain  you.  You  cannot  think  how  it  hurts 
me  ;  "  for  she  saw  the  young  man  was  growing 
deadly  pale.  *'  It  has  been  a  great  mistake.  I 
am  already  engaged  to  my  cousin,  but  you  must 
not  speak  of  it." 

Reginald  Macnaghten  was  silent.  Tiny's  words 
and  manner  told  him  he  had  nothing  to  hope,  and 
he  was  struggling  with  his  disappointment,  which 
Avas  real ;  for  he  had  learnt  to  love  this  girl  who 
had  only  trifled  with  him. 

**  Come,  Reginald,"  said  Tiny,  calling  him  for 
the  first  time  by  his  Christian  name,  ^^  give  me  your 
hand  on  it,  and  let  us  be  friends.  I  like  you  very 
much,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  hand,  **  and 
should  care  to  have  you  for  a  friend." 

He  kissed  it,  for  he  could  not  speak  ;  but,  in- 
stead of  following  her  into  the  house,  allowed  her 
to  pass  in  alone,  and  without  another  word,  walked 
rapidly  from  the  terrace  into  the  dark  shrubbery 
beyond. 

That  night  Reginald    Macnaghten   never  reap- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  255 

peared  in  the  ball-room  ;  some  hours  later  he  was 
found  in  his  room  ;  having  retired,  he  said,  with  a 
violent  headache. 

Now  that  Tiny  realized  what  she  had  done,  she 
was  sorry  for  it ;  but,  unfortunately,  her  repent- 
ance came  too  late  ;  and,  in  this  instance,  was  ac- 
companied by  so  many  fears  on  her  own  account, 
that  she  had  enough  to  do  to  think  of  how  she 
should  get  out  of  this  business  with  the  least  blame 
to  herself. 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  think  that  she  was  going 
away  the  next  morning,  or  rather  that  very  day  ; 
for  the  sun  had  risen  long  before  her  sisters  left  her 
in  undisturbed  possession  of  her  room,  and  with 
thoughts  which  were  anything  but  calm  and  pleas- 
ant. 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Tiny  to  herself,  ''  it  was  fort- 
unate that  Wilfred  could  not  get  leave  of  absence  ; 
and  yet,  perhaps,  if  he  had  come  down  to  the  play, 
this  last  catastrophe  might  have  been  avoided." 

She  felt  she  should  never  dare  confess  all  to  him, 
for  she  knew  she  had  acted  foolishly  in  going  out 
on  the  terrace  ;  her  own  sense  told  her  that,  in 
doing  so,  she  provoked  the  declaration  which  fol- 
lowed ;  and  when  she  recalled  the  pained  expres- 
sion of  Reginald's  face  as  she  last  saw  it,  before  he 
strode  away  into  the  shrubbery  to  conceal  his  emo- 
tion, a  genuine  regret  came  over  her,  and  a  sense 
of  shame  for  having  indulged  her  vanity  at  his  ex- 
pense. 


256  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

But  Tiny  hated  to  think  of  what  pained  her,  and 
consoled  herself  with  a  sweeping  condemnation  of 
her  mother,  for  forcing  her  to  conceal  her  position 
with  Wilfred — of  Wilfred,  for  not  being  present  to 
take  care  of  her — and  of  Reginald  Macnaghten,  for 
not  restraining  his  feelings — and  then  she  fell  into 
a  peaceful  sleep,  as  if  nothing  whatever  had  hap- 
pened, and  she  had  never  given  a  human  being  a 
moment's  disquietude 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

**  O  purblind  race  of  miserable  men, 
How  many  among  us  at  this  very  hour 
Do  forge  a  life-long  trouble  for  ourselves, 
By  taking  true  for  false,  and  false  for  true." 

Idylls  of  the  King. 

For  the  next  io-w  weeks  Tiny  astonished  every- 
body by  her  eagerness  to  go  to  all  the  balls  and 
parties  for  which  the  Harewoods  received  cards. 

When  alone  with  Wilfred  she  was  constrained 
and  nervous.  She  had  not  told  him  about  Regi- 
nald Macnaghten's  proposal,  and  was  in  constant 
dread  of  his  hearing  more  about  her  conduct  at 
Bellingham  Castle  than  he  knew  already.  If  that 
displeased  him,  Tiny  wondered  what  he  would  say 
if  he  knew  all  which  had  taken  place  since  she 
wrote  that  penitent  letter.  The  whole  thing 
made  her  so  restless  and  unhappy,  that  she  craved 
for  fresh  excitement,  and  was  never  satisfied  with- 
out it. 

Nor  was  Wilfred  happy.  He  could  not  disen- 
gage his  affections  from  this  enticing  little  piece  of 
naughtiness,  and  yet  his  illusion  was  gone — gone 
far  more  completely  than   he  thought  it  even  that 


258  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

miserable  night  when  he  paced  up  and  down  the 
deck  of  the  yacht  at  Ryde,  and  for  the  first  time 
learned  that  Tiny  loved  another  when  she  pro- 
mised to  be  his  wife. 

And  so  these  two,  who,  a  few  weeks  before, 
had  seemed  so  bound  up  in  each  other  that  noth- 
ing could  sever  them,  began  to  grow  wider  and 
wider  apart,  until  they  were  once  more  united  by 
a  common  sorrow. 

During  this  time,  Wilfred  Lane  devoted  himself 
more  than  ever  to  his  work.  His  daily  visit  to 
Grosvenor  Crescent  was  no  longer  expected  as  a 
matter  of  course.  If  he  came,  he  found  the  draw- 
ing-room so  full  that  he  had  no  chance  of  a  quiet 
talk  with  Tiny  ;  if  he  dined  there,  she  often  left 
before  dessert  to  prepare  for  some  ball,  to  which 
she  had  promised  to  accompany  Lady  Harewood  ; 
and  their  quiet  Sunday  afternoons  were  now  con- 
stantly broken  into  by  interruptions  which  Wilfred 
knew  well  enough  Tiny  would  have  evaded  in  ear- 
lier days. 

Still,  he  clung  obstinately  to  the  belief  that  all 
this  sprang  from  the  unnatural  state  of  things  to 
which  Lady  Harewood  forced  their  submission. 
He  thought  that  Tiny's  restless  love  of  excitement 
would  subside,  and  the  happiness  she  had  ex- 
pressed in  her  old  letters  from  Rome  would  be 
hers,  when  she  was  settled  in  a  quiet  little  home  of 
her  own,  for  which  he  so  impatiently  sighed. 
Tiny,  too,  often  spoke  of  her  happiness  as  certain, 


A  Reed  Shake^i  with  the  Wind.  259 

when  removed  from  an  atmosphere  which,  she  as- 
sured Wilfred,  she  loathed  and  detested. 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  on  the  31st  of  May, 
between  these  two  who  had  once  thought  it  im- 
possible to  wait  till  then  for  the  marriage  which 
was  to  make  them  as  publicly  one,  as  their  hearts 
long  since  had  made  them. 

Wilfred  was  on  his  way  to  speak  to  Lady  Hare- 
wood  that  evening,  when  he  met  one  of  his  aunt's 
servants,  who  gave  him  a  note  from  Tiny,  beg- 
ging him  by  no  means  to  come  to  the  house,  be- 
cause Madeline,  who  had  been  very  poorly  for  the 
last  few  days,  had  scarlet  fever,  and  the  whole 
household  was  in  confusion. 

He  had  no  fears  for  himself,  having  had  the 
scarlet  fever  at  Harrow ;  but,  knowing  he  might 
convey  the  infection  to  others,  he  felt  he  must  re- 
frain from  going  to  Tiny  ;  for  what  would  Lady 
Slade  say,  if  she  heard  that  Mr.  Lane  attended 
the  War  Office  as  usual,  after  visiting  Grosvenor 
Crescent  under  present  circumstances  ?  With  an 
expression  which  did  not  sound  like  a  blessing  on 
the  rising  generation  of  little  Slades,  he  retraced 
his  steps  in  the  direction  of  his  own  chambers. 

During  the  next  few  days  constant  notes  passed 
between  them,  for  Wilfred  was  not  only  anxious 
about  Madeline,  but  in  hourly  dread  lest  Tiny 
should  take  the  fever. 

At  first  the  accounts  were  favorable  ;  but,  by 
the  end  of  the  week,  bad    symptoms   appeared ; 


26o  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

and  the  doctors  warned  them  all  to  prepare  for  the 
worst.  After  a  night  of  great  suspense,  Wilfred 
received  a  line  from  Tiny,  to  say  that  poor  Mad- 
eline had  sunk  from  exhaustion  at  four  o'clock  that 
bright  June  morning  ;  and  Lady  Harewood  was 
so  much  alarmed  lest  any  fresh  case  should  break 
out,  that  she  had  resolved  to  leave  the  infected 
house  that  very  day,  and  had  actually  despatched 
Watson  to  engage  rooms  at  Walmer,  as  the  quiet- 
est place  they  could  think  of  in  their  distress. 

Poor  Tiny's  letter  was  blotted  all  over  with 
tears,  for  she  was  heart-broken  at  the  sudden  loss 
of  her  favorite  sister,  and  horrified  at  the  idea  of 
leaving  the  house  as  soon  as  ever  Madeline  ceased 
to  breathe. 

Of  course,  Wilfred  was  thankful  to  hear  of  this 
plan,  as  it  was  evident  the  fever  was  of  a  malignant 
kind  ;  but  he  felt  very  deeply  the  death  of  a  cousin 
with  whom  so  many  early  associations  were  con- 
nected. 

How  differently  this  first  week  in  June  passed  to 
what  any  of  them  had  expected  ! 

Every  day  brought  Wilfred  a  letter  from  Wal- 
mer, which  he  eagerly  opened,  fearing  it  might 
contain  news  of  further  illness  ;  but  the  cruel  fever 
had  done  its  work  :  gradually  all  alarm  subsided  ; 
and,  at  the  end  of  three  weeks.  Sir  Thomas  Slade 
(unknown  to  his  wife)  told  Mr.  Lane  he  might 
safely  run  down  and  see  poor  Lady  Harewood  and 
his  cousins. 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  261 

On  the  following  Saturday  afternoon,  Wilfred 
astonished  his  aunt  and  cousins  by  walking  into 
the  small  house  they  occupied,  facing  the  sea. 

When  Tiny  saw  him  her  grief  burst  out  afresh, 
for  they  had  not  met  since  Madeline's  death  ;  and 
directly  they  were  alone,  she  hid  her  face  on  his 
shoulder,  and,  refusing  to  be  comforted,  wept  as  if 
her  very  heart  would  break. 

After  dinner  they  walked  together  on  the  beach  ; 
but  although  they  both  shrank  from  speaking  of 
their  hope  of  future  happiness,  in  the  presence  of 
this  new  sorrow,  they  seemed  to  be  nearer  to  each 
other  ;  nearer  than  they  had  been  for  many 
weeks. 

The  next  morning  Wilfred  took  Tiny  across  the 
fields  to  the  church  at  Upper  Deal.  On  their  re- 
turn, Lady  Harewood  consulted  them  about  a 
very  kind  letter  she  had  received  from  Lady 
Lothian,  inviting  them  all  to  her  place  in  Scot- 
land. A  few  years  before.  Lady  Lothian  had  lost 
her  own  daughter  in  scarlet  fever  ;  and  she  begged 
the  Harewoods  to  come  to  her  as  soon  as  they  felt 
inclined,  promising  that  no  one  should  intrude  on 
them,  for  she  knew  how  to  sympathize  with  their 
deep  sorrow. 

Wilfred  had  never  seen  Lady  Lothian,  as  the 
Harewoods  had  made  her  acquaintance  in  Rom.e  ; 
but  he  was  much  pleased  with  her  letter,  and, 
when  they  talked  it  over,  he  advised  her  offer 
should   be    accepted.      It  was  accordingly  settled 


262  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

that  they  should  propose  to  be  with  her  the  second 
week  in  July  ;  and  as  it  was  considered  more  pru- 
dent to  avoid  Grosvenor  Crescent  altogether, 
Wilfred  was  to  engage  rooms  at  the  Euston 
Square  Hotel,  to  enable  them  to  rest  one  night  in 
London,  and  to  take  the  day  mail  to  Edinburgh. 

Tiny  wrote  every  day,  whilst  she  was  at  the 
sea-side — letters  full  of  the  old  love — and  again 
told  Wilfred  how  she  longed  for  the  time  which 
would  put  an  end  to  a  separation  which  became 
more  and  more  wearisome. 

On  the  fourteenth  of  July  the  Harewoods  left 
Walmer  for  the  Euston  Square  Hotel,  where  Wil- 
fred was  waiting  to  receive  them. 

He  took  the  first  possible  opportunity  of  telling 
Lady  Harewood  that,  although  this  sorrow  had 
prevented  their  claiming  her  promise  on  the  first 
of  June,  they  trusted  she  would  consent  to  their' 
marriage  during  the  autumn,  and  added  he  was 
about  to  see  a  cottage  at  Chislehurst,  to  which 
Tiny  had  taken  a  fancy. 

Lady  Harewood  seemed  considerably  softened 
by  her  recent  grief,  and  said  she  had  been  expect- 
ing this  communication,  and  would  talk  to  Tiny 
when  they  were  at  Lady  Lothian's  ;  she  also  re- 
quested him  to  write  fully  about  ways  and  means 
after  his  visit  to  Chislehurst.  Then  she  wished 
him  good-by,  rather  more  cordially  than  usual, 
and  retired  with  Charlotte  in  order  to  give  Wilfred 
a  quiet  half  hour  with  Tiny. 


A  Reed  SJiakeri  with  the  Wind.  263 

Before  they  parted  that  night,  Tiny  unburdened 
her  heart,  and  confessed  the  extent  of  Reginald 
Macnaghten's  influence  over  her.  She  spoke,  too, 
again  of  Captain  Foy  ;  of  her  unrest  and  craving 
for  excitement  ;  and  then  assured  Wilfred  of  her 
perfect  love  for  himself,  and  her  happiness  in  look- 
ing forward  to  the  day  which  should  unite  them 
forever. 

Still,  as  Wilfred  Lane  walked  home,  he  deter- 
mined to  give  her  the  chance  of  once  more  recon- 
sidering the  whole  matter,  but  resolved  to  wait 
until  she  had  settled  down  at  Dunoon.  In  the 
meantime  he  went  to  Chislehurst,  and  made  every 
inquiry,  as  if  the  result  were  certain  to  be  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  wishes.  Tiny  soon  sent  him 
news  of  their  arrival  in  Edinburgh,  and  their  sub- 
sequent welcome  from  Lady  Lothian  at  her  lovely 
place  on  the  banks  of  the  Loch  Lomond. 


CHAPTER  XXXIi:. 

**  His  grand  excellence  was  this,  that  he  was  genuine." 

Thomas  Carlyle. 

When  Tiny  had  been  about  ten  days  in  Scot- 
land she  received  the  following  letter  : 

"  My  Own  Darling  Tiny, 

**  I  have  been  thinking  so  much  of  all  you 
told  me  the  night  before  you  left  London,  that  I 
feel  I  ought  to  ask  you  to  reconsider  your  position 
with  regard  to  me.  This  separation  has  been 
brought  about  in  such  a  strange  and  mysterious 
manner,  that  it  almost  seems  as  if  it  had  been  sent 
on  purpose  to  enable  you  once  more  to  deliberate 
before  your  final  decision.  So  now,  Tiny,  be- 
lieve me,  when  I  say  I  honestly  want  you  to  con- 
sider yourself  unfettered  by  any  previous  promise  ; 
as  having,  in  fact,  your  choice  to  make.  Do  not 
suppose,  my  beloved,  that  I  write  thus  because  I 
love  you  less,  or  am  a  shade  less  eager  for  our  mar- 
riage ;  on  the  contrary,  Tiny,  I  seem  every  day  to 
love  and  need  you  more  ;  but  I  love  you  so  infin- 
itely more  than  I  do  my  own  happiness,  that  I  can 
surrender  it  to  yours.      Do  not  fear  to  trust  me. 


A  Reed  SJiakcji  ivitJi  the  Wind.  265 

If  there  is  any  doubt  on  your  mind  ;  if  you  have 
the  shadow  of  a  suspicion  that  Hfe  with  me  will 
not  give  you  all  }'ou  can  imagine  possible  under 
such  circumstances,  I  think  you  are  bound  to 
hesitate,  even  now,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  in  spite  of 
any  present  suffering  and  humiliation  to  me.  You 
see,  my  darling,  one  point  has  been  made  clear 
to  you  this  year,  and  your  doubts  and  difficulties 
respecting  Captain  Foy  are  forever  set  at  rest. 
This  gives  you  a  far  better  opportunity  of  deciding 
your  own  future,  than  could  be  the  case  while 
your  little  mind  was  harassed  by  all  these  cruel 
perplexities  which  tormented  it  so  long.  But, 
Tin)',  I  sometimes  tremble  lest  you  should  have 
mistaken  your  feeling  for  me,  because  I  was  able 
in  the  first  instance  unconsciously  to  help  you  to 
bear  your  sorrow,  and,  after  you  confided  in  me. 
to  sympathize  with  every  little  difficulty  and  pain 
it  brought  you.  Therefore,  I  want  you  once 
more  to  consider  the  whole  matter.  Do  not,  for 
any  fear  of  bringing  trouble  upon  me,  hesitate  to 
do  what  is  best  for  your  own  happiness.  Remem- 
ber, my  darling,  you  would  bring  a  far  greater 
misery  upon  me  in  the  end,  if  I  found,  a  few  weeks 
after  our  marriage,  that  it  did  not  yield  you  all  the 
joy  you  expected.  Tiny,  the  thought  that  I  could 
never  help  you,  never  release  you  from  such  a 
bondage,  would  be  intolerable  to  me.  For  both 
our    sakes    I    implore    you    to    make  no    mistake 

about  your  love  for  me. 
12 


266         A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

"  Let  me  speak  plainly  to  you,  which  I  can  do 
much  more  calmly  than  when  present  with  you. 

"  It  is  not  that  I  love  you  less,  or  that  I  can — 
even  while  I  tell  you  to  choose  afresh — think  of 
parting  with  you  without  a  thorough  upset  of  my 
life  and  the  only  happiness  I  have  ever  pictured — 
the  future  I  have  treasured  for  years  !  But  I  dare 
not  (after  what  I  saw  at  Bellingham,  and  what  you 
have  since  told  me  about  your  feeling  for  Mac- 
naghten)  refrain  from  offering  to  set  you  free  from 
the  tie  which  has  hitherto  bound  us. 

**  It  is  easier,  Tiny,  to  say  things  than  to  forget 
them  ;  just  as  it  was  easier  for  me  to  be  angry  at 
Bellingham,  rather  than  wise  and  patient ;  but 
what  you  said  and  did  then,  took  away  from  me 
the  confidence  I  had  in  our  future,  and  left  in  its 
place  a  thousand  doubts  and  difficulties. 

"When  I  first  told  you  I  loved  you,  and 
asked  you  to  be  my  wife,  you  made  me  believe 
that  your  love  for  me  was  so  completely  a  part  of 
your  nature,  that  nothing  short  of  our  marriage 
would  satisfy  you  :  and  that  the  happiness  of  such 
a  union  would  more  than  counterbalance  any  trials 
and  drawbacks  incidental  to  our  position.  If  I 
had  ever  doubted  this,  I  should  have  felt  it  wrong 
to  offer  your  mother  the  decided  opposition  I  did. 
When  I  learnt  for  the  first  time  at  Ryde  the  exist- 
ence of  a  previous  attachment,  you  know.  Tiny, 
what  I  wished  to  do.  I  allowed  you  to  overrule 
me,  because  I  believed  events  would  turn  out  as 


A  Reed  Shaken  zuith  the  Wind.  267 

they  have,  in  one  way  ;  but  I  never  dreamt  that 
any  other  feeling  would  take  the  slightest  hold 
upon  you — even  to  the  extent  it  did  at  Belling- 
ham. 

"  I  cannot  write  calmly,  after  all;  and  I  don't 
know  that  many  words  are  wanted.  All  I  have 
to  say  is,  that  I  implore  you,  m.y  darling,  to 
be  very  sure  you  are  making  no  mistake  now. 
Unless  you  love  me  wholly  our  marriage  will  sim- 
ply expose  you  to  a  thousand  miseries  and  dan- 
gers, of  which  you  have  at  present  no  conception. 
Without  love,  Tiny — the  deepest  love  of  your 
whole  being — it  will  be  destitute  of  the  greatest 
safeguard  against  temptations  to  which  some 
natures  are  peculiarly  liable.  Think  over  this 
while  you  are  away  from  me,  my  darling  ;  you 
are  better  able  now  to  come  to  a  clear  decision 
about  the  state  of  your  own  mind,  arid  what  will 
best  promote  your  future  welfare.  Do  not  hesi- 
tate to  choose  what  seems  happiest  for  you,  be- 
cause your  kind  little  heart  shrinks  from  wounding 
me  ;  remember  I  am  a  great  strong  fellow,  and 
can  better  face  this  trouble,  than  you  could  cope 
with  such  a  life-long  difficulty  as  an  incomplete 
marriage. 

''  I  know  too  much  of  the  wretchedness  and  sin 
such  marriages  produce,  ever  to  forget  it ;  and 
therefore  solemnly  conjure  you,  Tiny,  not  to  link 
your  fate  with  mine  if  you  have  one  doubt  about 
your  affection  for    me.     The  thought  that  I  might 


268  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

prove  your  evil,  and  not  your  good,  has  sent  me 
down  on  my  knees  more  than  once,  and  I  would 
welcome  any  present  desolation  for  myself  rather 
than  run  such  a  fearful  risk  for  you,  my  own  dear 
one — dearer  far  than  my  own  soul. 

**  Yours, 

'*  WiLP^RED  Lane." 

•  •  •  • 

"Dunoon. 

*•  I  would  not  answer  your  letter,  my  darling 
Wil,  in  a  hurry  ;  so  I  kept  it  for  two  days  in  my 
pocket,  and  have  read  it  through  a  great  many 
times  since  it  came. 

"  You  are  a  dear,  noble,  generous-hearted  fel- 
low ;  but  there  was  no  occasion  for  you  to  write 
as  you  did,  or  to  place  so  much  weight  upon  what 
I  have  said  and  done,  when  I  was  in  an  ill-con- 
ditioned state. 

If  I  wanted  anything  to  convince  me  that  I 
never  could  be  happy  w^ithout  you,  this  separation 
would  have  done  it.  I  feel  such  a  blank,  and  one 
does  not  quite  know  why  it  is,  till  I  picture  what 
this  place  would  be  like  if  you  were  only  here  ; 
and  then  I  find  it  is  your  absence  which  makes  the 
want.  My  own  Wil  !  our  life  together  is  the  only 
one  I  can  think  of  with  any  satisfaction  ;  and  I 
feel  sure  it  will  be  a  happy  one,  if,  as  you  said  in 
our  last  sweet  talk  together,  we  make  up  our 
minds  to  do  all  we  can  for  each  other's  happiness. 
Certainly,  it   is   only   by   doing    my  duty  by   you 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  269 

that  I  shall  ever  get  any  real  happiness,  or  do  my- 
self any  good  ;  you  must  think  the  same,  and  then 
our  little  home  will  be  a  sweet  and  peaceful  one. 
I  do  indeed  realize  this,  and  am  ready  to  do  my 
best.  I  think  I  must  succeed  better  than  I  have 
before,  because  all  seems  so  much  clearer.  You 
may  be  sure  that  it  is  no  sudden  impulse  which 
makes  me  say  this.  I  may  be  changeable  in  tem- 
perament ;  but  I  am  certain  that  my  feeling  for 
you  is  based  upon  the  deepest  part  of  my  mind, 
and  life  would  be  incomplete  without  you. 

"  I  quite  understand  your  letter,  Wilfred,  and 
feel  for  you  in  a  way  which  will,  I  hope,  make  me 
in  the  future  more  considerate  to  you  than  I  have 
been  in  the  past.  I  know  I  was  very  wrong  about 
Reginald  Macnaghten,  or  rather,  I  missed  the 
highest  right,  chiefly  from  not  seeing  what  I  w^as 
doing  ;  and,  as  I  am  quite,  qtiiie  certain  that  a  life 
with  you  would  secure  for  me  a  far  greater  amount 
of  happiness  than  anything  else  in  the  world,  I  will 
be  more  unselfish  in  the  future.  I  am  writing  this 
after  some  very  serious  thought,  Wil. 

''Believe  me,  I  could  not  part  with  you,  any 
better  than  you  could  part  with  me.  The  hap- 
piest moment  in  the  day  is  when  I  come  down 
and  find  a  letter  from  you  on  the  breakfast-table  ; 
and  the  next  best — when  I  sit  down  to  answer  it. 
Every  day  makes  me  more  dependent  upon  you  • 
no,  my  darling,  I  never  could  do  without  you 
now",  and  you  would  be  more  than  satisfied  if  you 


2/0  A  Reed  Shaken  ivitJi  tJie  Whid. 

knew  how  I  am  longing  for  the  time  when  we  shall 
always  be  together  in  a  peaceful  little  home  of  our 
own.  I  was  counting  even  yesterday  the  days  to 
that  dearest  event,  and  wondering  if  mamma 
would  insist  on  our  waiting  until  the  six  dreariest 
months  I  have  ever  spent  in  my  life  are  com- 
pleted. So  good-by,  my  own  ;  for  my  own  you 
always,  always  must  be,  and  that  is  your  answer. 
I  kiss  your  dear  ring  as  I  write.     I   have  no  time 

for  more. 

"  Your  own  little 

"Tiny." 

This  letter  extinguished  Wilfred's  last  lingering 
suspicion  ;  his  whole  nature  rejoiced  in  the  thought 
of  his  darling's  love  ;  and  he  thanked  God  for  this 
rich  gift,  and  prayed  to  be  able  to  make  her 
happy. 

He  pursued  the  owner  of  the  cottage  at  Chisle- 
hurst  with  renewed  vigor,  and  at  last  obtained  his 
definite  answer.  Mr.  Hall  was  about  to  leave 
England,  and  wished  to  sell  his  cottage,  together 
with  the  old  oak  furniture  and  the  curious  cabinets 
it  contained.  The  house  was  fitted  up  with  such 
perfect  taste,  that  Tiny  used  often  to  say  if  she 
herself  had  planned  it,  she  could  not  have  suc- 
ceeded better. 

After  a  few  days'  negotiation,  matters  were 
finally  arranged  ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  heavy  sum  it 
required,  Wilfred  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  cot- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wuid.  271 

tage,  as  Mr.  Hall  agreed  to  give  him  immediate 
possession,  and  to  let  part  of  the  purchase-money 
stand  over  for  another  year.  So,  when  the  night 
mail  travelled  down  to  Scotland  on  the  following 
Monday,  it  carried  a  letter  which  much  delighted 
the  little  person  to  whom  it  was  addressed. 

'*  My  Darling  Tiny, 

**  Your  letter  has  made  me  the  happiest  man  in 
the  whole  world  !  I  will  never  again  have  another 
doubt  about  your  love,  so  I  shall  *  let  the  dead 
past  bury  its  dead,'  including  Mr.  Reginald  Mac- 
naghten,  and,  by  way  of  acting  in  the  '  living 
present,'  as  the  poet  says,  I  have  just  signed, 
sealed,  and  paid  over  the  greater  part  of  the  pur- 
chase-money for  that  queer  little  place  at  Chislc- 
hurst,  which  took  your  fancy  so  last  year.  As 
Mr.  Hall  is  going  to  live  in  Florence,  he  wished  to 
sell  the  whole  house  as  it  stands  ;  so  you  may  now 
consider  yourself  the  mistress  of  this  quaint  little 
cottage.  How  I  wish  you  could  put  yourself  into 
an  envelope,  and  come  back  in  the  next  post-bag, 
to  preside  over  your  new  possession  and  me  ! 
I  am  getting  so  hungry  for  you.  Tiny,  that,  when 
I  do  get  hold  of  you,  I  shall  devour  you  altogether 
— there  will  be  nothing  of  you  left.  I  shall  be  like 
the  old  bear  in  the  story,  *  who  growled  over  her 
a  little  while  and  then  ate  her  up.'  Well,  if  we 
had  not  waited  all  this  time,  I  should  never  have 
saved  enough  money,  so  it  is  all  right,  I  suppose. 


2/2  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

But  we  shall  not  want  to  buy  any  more  houses,  so 
please  tell  your  mother  we  really  cannot  wait  any 
longer.  I  don't  see  at  all  why  she  should  not 
agree  to  our  being  married  in  September,  without 
any  fuss  or  ceremony.  It  will  then  be  two  years 
since  that  day  when  you  found  out  what  those  lit- 
tle marks  meant  in  my  Browning.  Well,  my  own, 
if  I  felt  so  for  you  then,  I  do  ten  thousand  times 
more  now.  You  seem  a  very  part  of  me — and  the 
best  part,  too.  And,  after  that  sweet  letter  you 
have  written  in  answer  to  my  offer  to  let  you 
spread  your  little  wings  and  fly  away,  I  feel  as  I 
used  to  do  when  I  was  a  schoolboy  at  Harrow, 
the  day  before  the  holidays.  If  I  don't  take  care 
I  shall  be  playing  off  a  practical  joke  upon  Sir 
Thomas  Slade  ! 

* '  So  you  were  kissing  my  ring  for  want  of  some- 
thing better,  eh  ?  Ah,  my  little  sunshine,  if  I 
could  only  gather  you  up  in  my  arms  at  this  mo- 
ment !  Well — Christmas  Day  will,  I  hope,  find 
us  sitting  by  our  own  fireside  at  Chislehurst.  The 
very  thought  of  it  makes  me    feel  like  a  giant  ! 

God  bless  you. 

*'  Yours  forever, 

''W.   L." 

This  news  made  Tiny  wild  with  joy.  She  had 
taken  such  a  fancy  to  this  cottage,  that  she  de- 
clared she  would  rather  live  there  than  in  any 
other  place  in  England  ;    and,   for  the  next  fort- 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  273 

night,  she  was  continually  suggesting  a  hundred 
little  alterations  she  wanted  made  in  their  future 
home  ;  and  told  Wilfred,  above  everything,  to 
"  cultivate  earwigs,  as  no  place  was  really  delight- 
ful without  them." 

Lady  Harewood  was  interested  in  hearing  about 
the  house  and  their  future  plans,  but  still  said  she 
would  not  allow  the  marriage  to  take  place  before 
the  end  of  the  prescribed  six  months. 

"■  So,"  Avrote  Tiny,  ''it  must  be  November  in- 
stead of  June." 
13* 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

**  I  would  not  have  that  exotic  virtue  which  is  kept  from  the 
chill  blast,  hidden  from  evil,  without  any  permission  to  be  exposed 
to  temptation.  That  alone  is  virtue  which  has  good  placed  before 
it  and  evil,  and,  seeing  the  evil,  chooses  the  good." 

Rev.  Frederic  Robertson. 

One  lovely  morning  towards  the  end  of  August, 
Lady  Lothian  and  her  guests  stepped  through  an 
open  window  on  to  the  lawn  at  Dunoon,  while 
discussing  the  contents  of  the  letter-bag,  which  had 
arrived  during  breakfast. 

Lady  Lothian  had  been  surprised  by  a  letter 
from  her  son,  who  had  reached  London  from  St. 
Petersburgh  nearly  a  fortnight  before  he  was  ex- 
pected. He  wanted  to  bring  a  friend  down  for 
some  grouse  shooting ;  and  Lady  Lothian  was 
extremely  uncomfortable,  because  she  fancied  that 
any  society  would  at  present  be  distasteful  to 
Lady  Harewood. 

On  reading  this  letter,  Lady  Lothian  had  ex- 
pressed her  astonishment  at  her  son's  return,  and 
she  felt  it  was  useless  to  delay  mooting  the  other 
point  to  which  it  referred.  **  Herbert  wishes  to 
come  here  next  Saturday  ;  and  talks  of  bringing 


A  Reed  SJiakcii  with  the  Wind.  275 

his  friend,  Henry  Talbot,  with  him.  Will  you  tell 
me  frankly,  dear  Lady  Harewood,  if  this  would  be 
disagreeable  to  you  and  the  girls  ?  If  you  feel  it 
an  intrusion,  Herbert  can  easily  go  to  his  own 
moor  in  Aberdeenshire,  without  coming  here  at 
all." 

*'  I  would  not,  on  any  account,  keep  Lord 
Lothian  away,"  replied  her  guest.  *'  The  very 
thought  of  such  a  thing  makes  me  uncomfortable 
at  trespassing  so  long  on  your  hospitality  ;  and  we 
really  ought  to  be  going  home." 

*'  I  will  not  hear  of  that.  You  promised  me  to 
stay  until  the  end  of  September,  and  by  that  time 
I  do  hope  to  see  you  looking  a  little  stronger. 
Poor  Tiny,  too,  is  only  just  beginning  to  get  a  lit- 
tle color  on  her  cheeks." 

**  Oh,  I  am  very  well,"  said  Tiny,  slipping  her 
hand  into  Lady  Lothian's,  with  whom  she  was  a 
special  favorite,  for  she  often  reminded  her  of  the 
daughter  she  had  lost.  For  her  sake  and  Char- 
lotte's, Lady  Lothian  was  glad  that  her  son  talked 
of  coming  w^ith  his  friend ;  for  though  the  young 
men  would  spend  the  greater  part  of  the  day  on 
the  moors,  the  very  fact  of  their  being  in  the 
house  would  add  to  its  general  liveliness. 

There  is  a  certain  amount  of  decorum  which 
ought  to  be  observed  ;  but  when  grief  is  genuine, 
people  need  not  be  afraid  of  making  their  out- 
ward circumstances  as  cheerful  as  possible. 

And  certainly  the  arrival  of  Lord  Lothian  and 


2/6  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

Mr.  Talbot  made  a  difference  to  everybody  in  the 
house,  although  at  first  the  days  were  spent  in 
the  pursuit  of  grouse;  and  when  they  returned, 
tired  with  their  sport,  they  did  not  always  join  the 
ladies  after  dinner. 

But,  before  very  long,  an  excursion  was  planned 
to  Loch  Katrine  and  the  Trossachs,  and  sundry 
boating  expeditions  followed.  Tiny's  letters  to 
Wilfred  were  filled  with  descriptions  of  the  lovely 
scenery  through  which  they  passed ;  and  he 
rejoiced  to  find  how  rapidly  she  was  recovering 
her  spirits,  and  that  the  seclusion  Lady  Harewood 
at  first  rigidly  enforced  had  come  to  so  timely  an 
end. 

But  when  Tiny's  letters  became  shorter  than  be- 
fore, he  almost  grudged  the  time  spent  in  these 
mountain  and  boating  excursions  ;  and,  at  last, 
when  a  whole  week  passed  and  he  never  heard  at 
all,  he  felt  anxious,  and  despatched  a  grumbling 
epistle  to  Dunoon. 

Tiny  answered  by  saying  "  the  days  were  so  full, 
that  even  letters  to  him  '  seemed  a  push  ;  '  " — an 
expression  which  somewhat  astonished  him,  though 
he  did  not  wonder  at  her  raptures  over  "  an 
atmosphere  which  seemed  to  have  so  little  of  the 
nineteenth  century  about  it."  "  I  cannot  describe 
the  feeling,"  she  said;  "but  there  is  such  an 
absence  of  that  irritating  shallowness  of  perpetual 
go,  which  means  nothing,  and  produces  nothing 
lasting,  and  never  can  do  any  one  any  good." 


I 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  277 

In  the  same  letter  she  said  : 

"  I  read  Thomas-a-Kempis  every  day,  as  you 
asked  me  to  do.  The  thing  he  appears  to  dwell 
on  most  is  the  necessity  of  training  the  mind  to  the 
inward,  and  not  to  the  outward  condition  of  life. 
That  is,  as  you  often  say,  my  greatest  difficulty  ; 
and  habit  has  increased  my  natural  tendency  to 
externals.  But,  Wil,  I  can  honestly  say  that  I  de- 
rive very  little  pleasure  from  them  ;  at  least,  the 
pleasure  which  comes  is  so  unsatisfactory  that  it  is 
nearer  like  vexation.  I  read  such  a  glorious  chap- 
ter in  Proverbs  this  morning  ;  one  verse  in  it  made 
me  think  for  a  long  time  :  it  was  about  the  spirit 
of  a  man  being  the  candle  of  the  Lord  reaching 
the  inmost  parts  ;  that  spirit,  I  find,  is  the  only 
finger-post  to  the  path  where  one's  duty  lies,  and 
I  try  to  test  my  feeling  for  you  by  that,  and  to 
act  accordingly.  I  quite  understand  your  com- 
plaining about  my  letters.  I  don't  know  why  I 
feel  so  disinclined  to  write  about  our  proceedings  ; 
but  you  don't  know  the  people  here,  and  details  of 
going  out  and  coming  in  are  only  interesting  when 
connected  with  people  yoa  know  something  of." 

This  last  sentence  seemed  to  Wilfred  strangely 
inconsistent  with  Tiny's  previous  delight  in  telling 
him  every  passing  incident  of  her  daily  life. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

**  Till  from  the  straw  the  flail  the  corn  doth  beat 
Until  the  chaff  be  purged  from  the  wheat, 
Yea,  till  the  mill  the  grains  in  pieces  tear 
The  richness  of  the  flour  will  scarce  appear. 
So,  till  men's  persons  great  afflictions  touch 
If  worth  be  found,  their  w^orth  is  not  so  much, 
Because,  like  wheat  in  straw,  they  have  not  yet 
That  value  which  in  threshing  they  may  get. 
For,  till  the  bruising  flail  of  God's  corrections 
Have  threshed  out  of  us  our  vain  affections ; 
Till  those  corruptions  which  do  misbecome  us 
Are  by  thy  sacred  Spirit  winnowetl  from  us ; 
Until  from  us  the  straw  of  worldly  treasures, 
Till  all  the  dusty  chaff  of  empty  pleasures, 
Yea  !  till  His  flail  upon  us  He  doth  lay 
To  thresh  the  husk  of  this  our  flesh  away 
And  leave  the  soul  uncovered  ;  nay,  yet  mor^ 
Till  God  shall  make  our  very  spirit  poor. 
We  shall  not  up  to  highest  wealth  aspire. 
But  then  we  shall ;  and  that  is  my  desire." 

Wither, 

September  passed  away,  and  the  first  week  in 
October  found  the  Harewoods  still  at  Dunoon, 
For  ten  days  Wilfred  had  not  heard  from  Tiny  : 
one  morning,  however,  he  found  a  thick  envelope 
on    the    breakfast-table  ;    eagerly   seizing   it,    and 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  279 

pushing  aside  his  breakfast,  he  sat  down  to  devour 
its  contents. 

It  commenced  with  an  account  of  two  days 
spent  in  Arran,  and  then  continued,  after  a 
break  : 

''This  autumn  weather,  the  falHng  leaves,  and 
the  lovely  tints,  have  such  a  strange  effect  upon  me. 
Such  a  view  we  saw  yesterday  as  we  were  walk- 
ing home — thick  mists  rose  in  the  valley,  which 
were  bright  pink  where  the  sun  shone  through 
them — deep  blue  where  they  were  in  shade — 
and  the  woods  a  thousand  colors  ;  cherry,  orange, 
and  every  conceivable  shade.  The  outlines  were 
as  magical  as  Turner's,  or  some  of  Gustave  Dore's 
drawings." 

Here  the  letter  broke  off,  and  was,  apparently, 
continued  a  few  days  later : 

**  Oh,  Wil,  life  is  very  difficult,  with  all  its 
complicated  feelings  and  necessities  !  But  I  sup- 
pose we  are  given  something  inside  us  to  guide  us 
in  these  complications.  We  stumble,  fall,  and 
dissemble  ;  and  the  dissembling  returns  upon  our- 
selves. The  heart  alone  knoweth  its  own  bitter- 
ness, but  also  alone  knoweth  its  own  comfort. 
Wilfred,  the  more  I  see  of  myself  the  more 
diffident  I  get  about  myself  Such  a  curious 
feeling  has  come  into  my  life  that  I  dare  no  longer 
deceive  you.      I  have  a  feeling  for  Lord  Lothian. 


28o  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wmd. 

Dishonest  I  have  not  been,  because  I  have  de^ 
ceived  myself  more  than  you.  I  came  to  you 
full  of  the  intensest  feeling  towards  another. 
Your  superiority  to  me,  in  so  many  ways,  gave  me 
such  a  respect  for  you  that  it  blinded  me  to  the 
sin  I  was  committing — and  so  it  has  been  all  along. 
The  great  good  and  strength  you  were  to  me, 
deadened  the  feeling  that  I  was  not  all  I  should 
have  been  to  you  ;  and  my  real  affection — a  thou- 
sand times  greater  now  than  when  you  first  told  me 
that  you  loved  me — made  me  shrink  from  not  try- 
ing to  be  all  you  wished  me  to  be  to  you.  This  is 
the  truth,  Wil.  You  may  well  say  that  I  ought  to 
have  said  so  when  you  wrote  to  me  that  letter  some 
weeks  ago,  and  asked  me  to  think  seriously  of  our 
life.  I  did  think,  to  the  best  of  my  power,  Wil 
darling  ;  and  it  then  seemed  to  me  that  a  life  with 
you  would  be  the  best  and  happiest  I  could  ima- 
gine. 

"  I  thought  that  episode  at  Bellingham  Castle 
was  entirely  my  own  fault,  arising  from  self-in- 
dulgence and  love  of  admiration.  So  it  was  ;  and 
if  this  feeling  were  like  it,  1  should  consider  it  as 
unworthy  as  I  consider  that. 

"God  knows  my  strongest  desire  now  is  thatj 
you  may  not  suffer  from  my  being  what  I  am  if 
I  can  help  it.  Though  you  would  be  wrong  to 
think  I  am  happy,  yet,  when  Lord  Lothian  asked 
me  for  my  love,  I  felt  if  I  refused  it  him  I 
should  be  shutting  out  of    my  life   the  brightest 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  281 

glow   of  happiness    I    have    ever   imagined    since 
that  miserable  affair  with  Captain  Foy. 

"  Since  that  winter  at  Windsor,  I  have  not  even 
imagined  any  happiness  in  life  till  this  time — I 
mean  happiness  which  God  puts  into  your  nature 
without  your  asking  for  it  or  seeking  it  in  any  way. 
I  know  that  happiness  is  not  the  goal  of  life, 
nor  is  it  to  be  got  by  seeking  it  irrespectively  of 
duty  ;  and,  Wil,  believe  me  when  I  say  I  have 
tried  to  do  what  I  ought  to  do  in  this  matter. 

'*  Throughout  all  my  weaknesses  and  changes 
there  is  but  one  thing  I  am  able  steadily  to  believe 
and  think  of — the  strength  and  help  you  have 
been  to  me.  Wilfred,  the  growth  of  the  little 
that  is  worth  having  in  me,  is  solely  connected 
with  the  time  I  have  been  so  much  with  you.  If 
the  thought  of  me  gives  you  pain,  I  would,  if 
I  could,  obliterate  myself  from  your  memory ; 
though  I  can  hardly  tell  you  what  that  would  be 
to  me.  Whatever  you  may  say  or  do,  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  be  anything  but  your  own 
Tiny  ;  own  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word — for 
the  only  part  I  respect  in  myself  is  closely  united 
with  something  in  you. 

**  Pity  me,  Wil,  for  I  cannot  be  happy,  know- 
ing the  wrong  I  have  done  to  you. 

''Tiny." 

When  Wilfred  finished  reading  this  letter,  he 
began  it  again,  and  read   it  through   from  begin- 


282  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind. 

ning  to  end.  He  did  not  seem  able  to  under- 
stand it.  At  last  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  words, 
"I  HAVE  A  FEELING  FOR  LORD  LO- 
THIAN." He  repeated  them  aloud;  and  then 
seemed  so  startled  by  the  sound  of  his  own  voice, 
that  he  sat  looking  at  that  sentence  without  at- 
tempting to  move. 

He  was  disturbed  by  the  entrance  of  the  servant 
who  came  in  to  remove  the  breakfast,  wondering 
why  Mr.  Lane  lingered  such  a  long  time  over  it  ; 
wondering  still  more  when  she  saw  he  had  not 
touched  it.  Before  she  could  speak,  Wilfred 
thrust  his  letter  into  his  breast-pocket,  and,  taking 
up  his  hat,  went  down  the  stairs  at  once  to  avoid 
observation. 

The  blow  had  so  crushed  him  that  he  wandered 
about  the  streets  like  a  man  in  a  dream.  He  was 
neither  conscious  of  where  he  walked,  nor  of  the 
crowd  around  him.  Mechanically  he  took  his 
usual  route  to  the  War  Office,  but  passed  it  with- 
out knowing  he  did  so.  He  turned  to  the  left,  up 
Regent  Street,  passed  the  Langham  Hotel,  on 
through  Portland  Place,  the  Regent's  Park — on, 
on,  to  Primrose  Hill,  with  his  eyes  on  the  ground, 
and  his  lips  every  now  and  then  murmuring, 
•'Tiny,  Tiny!" 

At  last  he  suddenly  remembered  that  it  was 
Saturday  morning.  There  was  some  special  work 
to  be  done  that  day  at  the  War  Office  ;  and  after 
this  he  had  arranged  to  go  to  Chislehurst,  for  he 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind.  283 

wanted  the  place  to  be  in  perfect  order  before 
Tiny  returned.  Oh,  how  he  loathed  the  very 
name  of  Chislehurst  now  !  It  seemed  to  stab  him 
in  every  vulnerable  part,  and  brought  ten  thou- 
sand pangs  in  place  of  the  happy  confidence  which 
had  been  his  at  this  very  hour  yesterday.  He 
hastily  retraced  his  steps,  and  calling  a  Hansom 
cab,  told  the  driver  to  hurry  on  to  the  War  Office ; 
and,  as  he  walked  up  the  steps,  he  involuntarily 
exclaimed,  *'  God  help  the  man  she  now  says  she 
loves  1  " 

When  Mr.  Lane  apologized  to  Sir  Thomas 
Slade  for  his  late  arrival,  there  was  but  little  need 
to  say  he  was  ill  ;  his  face  told  the  tale  plainly 
enough.  A  headache,  however,  did  duty  for  the 
real  pain  he  was  suffering  ;  and  after  vainly 
attempting  to  work,  Wilfred  was  forced  to  return 
home. 

He  locked  himself  into  his  room.  Feeling  faint 
and  chilly,  he  poured  out  a  tumbler  of  brandy  and 
water,  and  drank  it  off ;  then  putting  a  match  to 
his  fire,  threw  himself  into  the  arm-chair  before  it, 
and  sat  hour  after  hour  vacantly  staring  at  the 
flickering  blaze — perfectly  stunned  by  this  unex- 
pected blow. 

At  last  he  drew  out  Tiny's  letter  ;  yes,  there 
were  the  words — '*  I  have  a  feeling  for  Lord  Lp- 
tJiian.'"  Wilfred  could  see  nothing  else  on  the 
whole  sheet  but  those  terrible  words — '*  I  have  a 
feeling  for  Lord  Lothian.''     He  staggered  to  the 


284  A  Reed  SJiaken  witli  tJie  Wind. 

writing-table,  and,  unlocking  a  drawer,  took  out 
several  bundles  of  letters.  Here  was  the  packet 
from  Rome — these,  tied  up  w^ith  a  lock  of  fair  hair, 
were  the  letters  from  Berkshire.  Opening  the 
foreign  ones,  he  read  them  through  ;  and,  as  he 
laid  them  back  in  the  drawer,  he  thought  the  nov^- 
elist  was  right  when  he  said  there  are  no  better 
satires  than  letters. 

'*  Vows — love — promises — confidences  and  gratitude — how  queer- 
ly  they  read  after  a  while  !  There  ought  to  be  a  law  in  Vanity  Fair 
ordering  the  destruction  of  every  written  document  (except  receipted 
tradesmen's  bills)  after  a  certain  and  proper  period.  The  quacks 
and  misanthropes  who  advertise  indelible  ink  should  Ije  made  to 
perish  along  with  their  wicked  discoveries.  The  best  ink  for  Van- 
ity Fair  use  would  be  one  that  faded  utterly  in  a  couple  of  days,  and 
left  the  paper  clean  and  blank,  so  that  you  might  write  on  it  to 
somebody  else." 

Sweet  and  bitter  thoughts  were  crowding 
through  Wilfred's  mind,  as  he  sat  resting  his  head 
on  his  hands  against  the  table — memories  of  infi- 
nite tendernesses  he  had  received  from  Tiny  ;  days 
and  hours  which  never  could  be  forgotten  ;  love 
which  no  future  falseness  could  ever  quite  efface  ! 
Recollections  came,  too,  of  the  hot  and  fatal  pas- 
sion of  his  youth — his  sin  was  finding  him  out 
after  many  days  ! 

Morning  dawned,  and  Wilfred  still  sat  battling 
with  his  misery.  He  took  up  a  pen,  and,  dravv^ing 
closer  to  the  table,  he  began  to  write  : 

"  Your  letter,  Tiny,  was  such   a  shock  to  me, 


A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Wind,  285 

that  I  could  not  answer  it  as  you  requested,  by 
return  of  post.  I  feel  bewildered.  It  is  scarcely 
three  weeks  since  I  received  that  dear  and  loving 
letter  which  I  prized  and  believed  in  so — and  now ! 
What  am  I  to  think?  what  am  I  to  say?  When 
did  you  deceive  yourself — then  or  now  ?  There  is 
but  one  conclusion,  Tiny — you  are  utterly  unsta- 
ble ;  and  I  am  powerless  to  save  you,  because  the 
feeling  of  love  and  honor  which  you  ought  to 
have  is  wanting. 

"  After  hours  of  battling  with  my  own  feelings, 
I  can  only  pray  that  you  may  not  live  out  your 
present  fancy  as  you  have  your  love  for  me.  If 
you  will  indulge  your  perilous  love  of  power,  it 
must  end  in  corrupting  the  high  and  glorious 
spirit  which  God  meant  to  be  the  best  part  of 
you  ;  but  which  you  are  extinguishing  by  this 
perpetual  crucifixion  of  your  higher  nature. 

''  I  do  not  want  to  blame  you.  Tiny;  I  know 
our  position  has  been  a  very  difficult  one  ;  with 
every  one  seeking  to  undermine  our  tie  instead  of 
strengthening  it,  none  but  a  very  firm  true  heart 
could  have  stood  the  test.  But  when  you  re- 
turned from  Rome — but  that  was  before  you  had 
lived  through  your  feeling  for  me. 

"Tiny,  it  is  useless  to  write,  and  I  am  too  be- 
wildered to  think — the  misery  of  the  last  twenty- 
four  hours  seems  simply  unreal  ;  you,  another 
person.  To  think  of  life  with  you  out  of  it, 
almost  drives  me  mad  ;  my  mind  seems  to  have 


286  A  Reed  Shaken  with  the  Whtd, 

lost  its  balance,  and  my  very  body  seems  shaken 
already  by  the  blow.  You  ask  me  to  help  you. 
Tiny,  I  want  help  myself.  The  thought  that  you 
have  any  pain  from  which  I  cannot  shield  you, 
tortures  me.  You  cannot  be  happy,  my  poor 
child,  though  you  have  not  the  misery  I  have  to 
bear.  Oh !  Tiny,  my  own — I  cannot  write.  No 
words  can  recall  the  past  :  all  we  have  now  to  do 
is  to  bury  it  reverently,  without  recriminations — 
and  may  God  help  us  both  in  our  different  kinds 
of  need  and  misery !  Tiny,  though  you  have 
sinned  in  the  past,  I  implore  you  to  be  good  and 
true  in  your  next  relationship— for' this  I  will  never 
cease  to  pray. 

"  As  for  me,  I  have  deserved  this  bitterness — 
you  are  simply  the  instrument  of  a  just  retribu- 
tion ;  nothing  short  of  having  my  own  happiness 
torn  up  by  the  very  roots  would  ever  have  pun- 
ished me  as  I  deserve." 

•  •  •  •  • 

Just  as  Wilfred  Lane  finished  writing,  the  Sun- 
day-morning church-bells  rang  out  as  usual ;  when 
he  heard  them,  he  gave  a  cry  of  pain,  and,  kneel- 
ing down,  hid  his  face  in  his  hands.  The  bitter 
sobs  which  broke  from  him  for  hours  after  told 
that  the  iron  had  entered  his  soul  as  only  the  hand 
of  Tiny  could  have  driven  it. 

FINIS. 


The  Abominations  of  Modern  Society. 

BY  REV.   T.  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

A  most  startling  and  eifective  presentation  of  the  vices  and 
follies  of  the  great  eify.  "It  is  a  buoy,"  saj's  the  author,  "swung 
over  the  rocks,  and  a  beacoii  to  warn  the  unwary."  It  has  akeady 
had  an  immense  sale,  and  is  now  a  standard  in  the  Trade. 

II. 

Get  Thee  Behind  Me,  Satan ! 

BY  OLIVE  LOGAN. 

A  Home  Born  Book  of  Home  Truths — giving  chapters  on 
Girlhood,  Bellehood,  Wifehood,  Motherhood,  the  Woman  Single 
and  the  Woman  Wedded,  the  Relations  of  Wife,  Husband  and 
Parent,  and  discussing,  in  an  eminently  suggestive  manner,  some 
of  the  social  problems  which  are  vexing  homes,  society  and  persons 
alike.  The  book  has  made  a  decided  sensation,  and  is  enjoying  a  very 
great  currency. 

III. 

Livingstone,  and  His  African  Explora- 
tions. 

By  S.O.  BEETON,  F.  R.  G.  S.,  ^  RONALD  SMITH,  of  Bombay. 

With  a  full  account  of  Hrs  recent  wonderful  discoveries; 
sketches  of  all  the  Livingstone  Search  Expeditions ;  chapters  on 
the  Slave  Trade,  &c.,  &c.  With  Portrait  and  new  Map  of  the 
Great  Water  Shed  Region  of  Equatorial  Africa,  &c.,  &c. 

» 

Each  of  the  above  is  in  a  beautiful  12mo.  volume,  bound  in 
Extra  Cloth;  Price,  81.50.  Sold  by  all  book  dealers,  or  sent,  post 
jMiul,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

ADAMS,  VICTOR  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS, 

98  William  Street,  New  York. 


A   TRULY   NOBLE   BOOK! 

AND 
ESPECIALLY  SUGGESTIVE  TO  YOUNG  MEN  AND  YOUNG  WOMEN  ! 

0 

THE 

WIHAIIOHS  OF  MODERN  SOCIETV I 

By  Rev.  T.  De  WITT   TALMAGE. 


CONTENTS :— "  The  Curtain  Lifted  "  (The  Great  City  as  it  is) ;  "  Winter 
Nights;"  "The  Power  of  Clothes;"  "After  Midnight,"  (or,  Scenea 
within  and  without),  "The  Indiscriminate  Dance,"  (Sociables, 
Public  Balls,  &c. );  "The  Massacre  by  Needle  and  Sewing  Machine," 
(All  about  Shop-Girls,  Sewing  Women,  &,c.);  "Pictures  in  the  Stock 
Gallery."  (or.  How  Stock-Gamblers  Gamble)  ;  "Leprous  Newspapers;  " 
"The  Fatal  Ten  Strike;"  "Lies— White  and  Black,"  (Commercial 
and  Social  Falsehood) ;  "  Some  of  the  Club-Rooms  ;  "  "  Flask,  Bottle, 
and  Demijohn  ;  "  "  The  Gun  that  Kicks  over  the  Man  who  Shoots  it 
Off."  (Blasphemy);  "The  House  of  Blackness  of  Darkness,"  (the 
"  Social  Evil  "  ) ;  "  The  Good  Time  Coming." 


This  notable  book  has  passed  through  more  rapid  editiona 
than  any  volume  issued  for  a  long  time,  and  it  bids  fair  to  be 
classed  with  those  works  which  stand  out  in  the  Trade  aa 
milestone^;  on  the  highway  of  American  Literature. 

"  Glowing  with  impassioned  fervor,  it  wages  a  deadly  war  against  the  vices 
of  the  day  in  their  most  enticing  forms." — N.  Y.  Tribune. 

"When  Talmage  speaks,  thousands  listen  ;  when  he  writes,  hundreds  of 
thousands  read."  — N.  Y.  Hearth  and  Home. 

"  He  is  a  fearless  antagonist  to  all  forms  of  corruption.  Blows  are  what 
he  gives ;  and  yet,  as  the  blade  goes  swiftly  down,  the  jewels  frequently 
flash  on  the  eye." — The  Interior,  Chicago. 

"  As  warmly  praised  and  as  vehemently  denounced  as  any  volume  which 
has  recently  appeared.  .  .  .  The  purpose  of  the  work,  we  need  not  say, 
is  the  very  best." — N.  Y.  Independent. 

"We  have  read  this  new  book  with  feelings  we  can  hardly  describe.  We 
know  of  no  living  preacher  who  could  have  written  it  but  Dr.  Talmage. 
.  .  .  Oh,  it  is  a  good  book  to  make  all  good  men  and  women  go  down  on 
their  knees  and  cry  mightily  to  God  against  the  destroyers  of  virtue,  peace, 

and  life May  it  be  circulated  in  tens  of  thousands  1 " — London 

{E7ig.)  Christian  Age.    (Spurgeon's  paper.) 

In  one  fine  volume,  12mo.    Price  $1.50. 

Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price  by 

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